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JOHN AND BETTY'S 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 




The beauty, the peace of Dryburgh Abbey. — Page 225. 



JOHN AND BEHY'S 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 



BY 



MARGARET WILLIAMSON 



AUTHOR OF "JOHN AND BETTY'S ENGLISH HISTORY VISIT 



ILLUSTRATED FROM PHOTOGRAPHS 




BOSTON 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 



Published, August, 1912 



f^^^ 



Copyright, 191 2, by Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 



Al/ Rights Reserved 



John and Betty's Scotch History Visit 



•Morwoo^ ipreaa 

Berwick and Smith Co. 

Norwood, Mass. 

U. S. A. 



,£ ni A .'^ 1 ci .f^ R « 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTBB 

L 


Coronation Week . . . . . 


PAGE 

9 


II. 


Oban, Staffa, and Iona .... 


34 


III. 


In the Western Highlands 


53 


IV. 


The Misty Isle of Skye .... 


72 


V. 


SkYE TiEGENDS AND CaSTLES .... 


84 


VI. 


Inverness and Cawdor Castle . 


100 


VII. 


Ben Nevis, Perth, and Thrums 


112 


Vlll. 


St. Andrews, Lochleven Castle, and 
Dunfermline 


128 


IX. 


The First Day in Edinburgh . 


143 



X. Old Times and New at Edinburgh Castle 156 

XI. Landmarks of Old Edinburgh . . . 171 

XII. Edinburgh Odds and Ends .... 190 

XIII. In the Scott Country 204 

XIV. Abbotsford and Dryburgh .... 216 
XV. Hawthornden and Roslin .... 228 

XVI. Linlithgow, Stirling, and the Trossachs 238 

XVII. The Clyde, Dumbarton, and Glasgow . 253 

XVIII. In the Burns Country 267 

XIX. Dumfries and Its Vicinity .... 280 

XX. Just over the Border 292 

5 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

The BEAUTY; THE PEACE OF Dryburgh Abbey (Page 
225) . Frontispiece y 

FACING 
PAGE 

The gilded coach in which rode King George and 

Queen Mary 22 v^ 

St. Martin's Cross, which some believe to have 
remained in the same position for about one 
thousand years 48 ^ 

"Looks like a great whopping toadstool with 
millions of stems " 52 

"All this Loch Awe country once belonged to 

the clan Macgregor" 56 v^ 

"Don't they have Skye terriers on the Isle of 

Skye, I should like to know?" . . . . IS ^ 

They stood at length before fine old Dunvegan 

Castle 92 i/' 

" Might we see the garden ? " asked Barbara . 108 u^ 

" Sometime you must read about Jess in ' A Win- 
dow IN Thrums '" 118 y 

Promptly at 9.44 o'clock, the number 13 was dis- 
played 128 >„-- 

"Mary was brought here to be a prisoner at 

THE CASTLE OF LORD AND LaDY DOUGLAS OF LOCH- 

leven" 138 I 

7 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



FACING 
PAGE 



And so, surrounded by the people of modern 
Edinburgh, they talked of the Edinburgh of 
LONG AGO 148 '^ 

"Let's look inside Queen Margaret's Chapel. 

It's one of the oldest in all Scotland " . . 160 "^ 

"Wouldn't be hired to live there myself if I 

WERE the King ! " 172 "^ 

"It's the old White Horse Hostelry, named for 

A palfrey belonging to Queen Mary " . . 178 ^ 

The West Bow, just below the castle esplanade 194 v 

"Many a rude tower and rampart there ) _.. 

\ , 206 V 
Repell'd the insult of the air" ( 

The picturesque pile seems almost to be sus- 
pended among the tree-tops 232 ^ 

John spent much time in taking the photograph 
of two little scotch travelers in highland 

KILTS 252 V" 

The river banks once knew Roman stations . 256 ^ 
" Tam was trying to reach the middle of this 

HIGH OLD bridge" 268 / 

They were more interested in the little ruined 

kirk at Kirkoswald 276 v 

Very Scotch and very quaint with its narrow, 
straggling street lined with one- story cot- 
tages 282v^i 

" I BID YOU FAIR : I GIVE YOU WELCOME "... 292 v' 



JOHN AND BETTY'S SCOTCH 
HISTORY VISIT 

CHAPTER ONE 

CORONATION WEEK 

*' Strand, Fleet Street, Bank! Here you 
are, lady; Strand, Strand! '' 

A little reassured by these well-remembered 
names, John and Betty clambered np after Mrs. 
Pitt to the top of a motor bus, and such a be- 
wildering city as they looked down upon ! 

Betty shook her head in half dismay, half 
delight. '' I can hardly recognize even Trafal- 
gar Square," she said; *' but I like London 
better than ever ! ' ' 

Sure enough, many familiar landmarks had 
entirely vanished behind rows and rows of 
wooden seats put up to enable the thousands 
of visitors to see the great royal processions of 
Coronation week ; and those that remained were 
so changed by the unaccustomed gayety of flags, 
crimson and blue hangings, portraits of the 
King and Queen painted in extravagant tints, 
crowns, roses, thistles, and shamrocks outlined 
in colored electric bulbs, that the effect pro- 

9 



lo JOHN AND BETTY'S 

duced was merely one of dazzling bewilderment. 
Philip, after living all his life in London, had 
actually disgraced himself the day before by 
riding directly past his destination. No one 
could really blame him when he made his apol- 
ogies and explained that he could not see that 
it was Bond Street for the ropes of laurel hang- 
ing across the way, the tall white pillars, and 
the great swinging signs proclaiming the names 
of some of England's famous literary men. 

** Well," said John, ^^ you know how it was 
Saturday, when we fellows started out to see 
the ^ changing of the guard ' there at St. 
James's Palace. When we got to the street 
leading down to it, it was such sport on top of 
the bus, watching everything down below, that 
we just went right past, 'way up Piccadilly; and 
the first thing we knew we were out at Albert 
Hall. I was sorry, Mrs. Pitt, because you were 
waiting for us, but honestly we couldn't help it." 

^* Oh, I forgave you willingly," Mrs. Pitt had 
answered. ^' I've missed any number of ap- 
pointments myself, for this strange, wonderful 
London has fairly taken my breath away. I 
could ride happily on the top of a bus all day 
long, just watching the crowds." 

The '^ fellows " to whom John had referred 
were the members of a company of Boy Scouts 
with whom he had fallen in on this second 
voyage of Betty's and his across the Atlantic. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT ii 

Captivated by the khaki suits and dashing yel- 
low silk neckties of this band, John's first er- 
rand in England had been to purchase such a 
yellow necktie for himself. Having been in 
London before, he had proudly offered to show 
his new friends *^ the sights ''; and the young 
professor who was the leader of the party had 
indulgently accepted John's guidance on sev- 
eral occasions, only going along to prevent his 
charges from giving their warwhoop too fre- 
quently. John's one regret had been that he 
could not have Mrs. Pitt's permission to go to 
camp with these boys in Scotland, after the 
Coronation festivities were at an end. But 
then, he and his sister and Philip and Barbara 
were themselves going right there with Mrs. 
Pitt. It was on purpose to see Scotland that 
Mrs. Pitt had invited John and Betty for a 
second summer's travel with her and her son 
and daughter; but when she had met the 
Oceanic at Southampton, she had promptly con- 
fessed having delayed the journey north for 
one week in order that they might all be in 
London for Coronation. *^ London is amaz- 
ing just now," said she. *^ We really shouldn't 
miss it. The chances are that even you young 
people may never have the opportunity to see 
another Coronation." 

The Boy Scouts were not the only visitors in 
London, they found. The buses, motor cars, 



12 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

taxicabs, and hansoms, whicli were so numerous 
as almost to block all traffic in the Strand, were 
carrying dapper little Japanese and stout In- 
dians, with head-dresses of brilliant reds and 
greens ; one had glimpses of dark foreign faces 
behind the windows of closed broughams, 
driven by coachmen in scarlet and the royal 
cockade; the streets literally swarmed with 
military men of all complexions and uniforms 
and degrees, from the United States private in 
khaki, to the pompous officer of some Eastern 
regiment in all his Oriental splendor. There 
were Australians, Canadians, and people from 
all of England's other colonies; there were 
Italians, Frenchmen, and Germans; and, of 
course, there were more Americans than ever. 
Now and then a company of Horse Guards 
would clatter along, adding their touch of black 
and scarlet to the scene. Never before can 
there have been more amazing contrasts 
seen in London, even in its normal state a 
city made up of all sorts and conditions of 
men. 

* ^ I say ! " interrupted John ; * * we are in luck 
to have such bully seats for Thursday. Your 
cousin's a brick to get them for us, Mrs. Pitt! 
Whenever I meet people from home I talk to 
them about our places on a * government stand ' 
in Whitehall, and I can just tell you they all 
act as if they think we're about it! And we 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 13 

got them so cheap, too ; most people have to pay 
two or three guineas.'' 

** By Jove, here are seats for the Corona- 
tion! '' shouted Philip; and looking where he 
pointed, the others saw in a tailor's shop a pair 
of trousers of showy brown check, to which 
was pinned the notice, ^^ Seats for the Royal 
Progress/' 

There was no shop so tiny, no window so 
lofty, along the route, either of the Coronation 
processions or of the grand Royal Progress 
of the day following the Coronation, but that 
the owner was preparing to make his fortune 
by renting seats in it. Such a hammering; 
such confusion! Such carrying on of regular 
trade, and endeavoring to capture holiday- 
makers at the same time ! Such bustling about 
of carpenters and decorators ! It was as much 
as one could do to make one's way along the 
street for the ladders and the chairs and the 
rolls of bunting which overflowed upon the 
sidewalk. 

That afternoon they took a taxicab and 
started for a drive through Hyde and Regent 
Parks. It took them two or three times longer 
than usual to go the length of Piccadilly. John 
grew impatient, for it was very warm, and the 
smell of the petrol from the motor cars was 
most disagreeable; but the placid English- 
men sat upon the tops of their buses in the 



14 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

broiling sun, contentedly reading their news- 
papers. 

'' In New York they'd all get off and walk/' 
John remarked. 

After a while they did reach Hyde Park Cor- 
ner, however, and conld turn in through the big 
arch into Eotten Eow. The many wide ave- 
nues of Hyde Park were thronged with smart 
turn-outs of every description, and the only dif- 
ficulty was that one could not look at the people 
in all of them at the same moment. Betty 
grew almost dizzy trying to puzzle out the crests 
on the beautifully polished doors of carriages 
and motor cars; and John shouted excitedly, 
*^ There's John Hays Hammond! Hurrah for 
theU. S. A.!" 

^* John! Lookout! He'll hear! " reproved 
Betty anxiously. 

** Don't care if he does! You needn't think 
I don't know Hammond, all right! Haven't 
I seen him loads of times down at Gloucester ? ' ' 

They found Eegent's Park still more excit- 
ing, for here the soldiers were encamped. 
They drove between rows and rows of tents 
which had been pitched on all the green lawns ; 
they caught glimpses of men in Highland kilts 
hurrying about on various errands; they saw 
the big tent used for the mess, and others 
where the horses were kept. 

** You see, regiments have come from Scot- 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 15 

land and Ireland, from many provincial towns, 
and from all of England's colonies, to play 
their part in the great processions, a few of 
them in that of Coronation Day and the rest in 
the Eoyal Progress. Sixty thousand troops 
are quartered in the parks of London. The 
Indian regiments are at Bushey Park, near 
Hampton Court." 

'' Oh, can't we go out there, Mrs. Pitt? I'd 
like to talk to those big fellows in the turbans ! ' ' 

*^ I'm afraid they wouldn't let you in, John, 
unless you had urgent business," and Mrs. 
Pitt smiled at the boy's eagerness. ^' The 
other day they stopped Barbara and me when 
we tried to walk from old Chelsea Hospital 
down to the Embankment. There are soldiers 
in the old Vauxhall woods, too." 

And so the days flew by until the much- 
anticipated Thursday, the twenty-second day 
of June, arrived. Betty was up at dawn to 
study the heavens, and soon after Mrs. Pitt 
heard her knock at the door and anxiously ex- 
claim, *^ It truly looks like showers, and what 
shall we do? " 

*^ Don't worry about those little clouds, 
dear," counseled Mrs. Pitt, who was not to be 
daunted by English weather. '' It will un- 
doubtedly be fine." 

They breakfasted at six-thirty, and by a 
quarter after seven were on their way to the 



1 6 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

nearest '' Tube " station. Few people were 
on the streets, and when their train came along, 
it was practically empty. The two Americans 
of the party, having had some experience with 
crowds on days of big processions at home, 
were much astonished. ^^ Where is every- 
body? '^ gasped Betty. ** Are we early, or are 
we very late? '' 

A short ride brought them to the Charing 
Cross station, from which they walked along 
the Thames Embankment. Here a subdued ex- 
citement prevailed ; now and then companies of 
big policemen marched down the wide street, 
and here and there were a few Horse Guards, 
just about to mount. Most astonishing of all 
was the sight of a lady in white gown and vivid 
green carriage wrap, whose dress, from her 
dainty gold slippers to the three nodding plumes 
in her hair, suggested that a place might be 
awaiting her in the old Abbey. 

^^ Is she walking to the Coronation! '' came 
from startled Betty. 

'' Well," said Mrs. Pitt, '' it would certainly 
look as though she were. Perhaps she was not 
able to engage a carriage, or even preferred 
walking to paying the price demanded for one. 
I heard of a gentleman, yesterday, who hired an 
ordinary cab to take him to the Abbey — for the 
modest sum of seven guineas ! Fancy ! ' ' 

Mrs. Pitt led the way through a little gate 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 17 

in a high wall, showing their big blue tickets as 
they entered. Crossing the garden at the rear 
of this government building at No. 8 Richmond 
Terrace, Whitehall, they went into the cellar, 
up some narrow stairs, along tiny improvised 
passages, and finally stepped out a window to 
the stand on which were their seats. 

' ' Oh ! " Betty cried, as she dropped into her 
seat ; and then again, ^ ' Oh ! ' ' 

But her mild exclamation was drowned in 
John's excited ^' See that carriage, will you! 
Where's a programme! Whose is it? Look at 
the wigs and cocked hats and the gold lace! 
And the crowds! Say, this is great! " 

From their seats they could see Trafalgar 
Square in one direction, and, in the other, the 
east end of Westminster Abbey, all but hidden 
by a giant stand black with people. Whitehall 
was lined on each side by a double row of sol- 
diers, some of them in scarlet coats and some 
in hunter's green with black hats, while down 
toward the Abbey some kilts of Gordon plaid 
were visible. Behind the soldiers, the sidewalks 
were solid with people, many of whom had been 
there a great many hours, patiently waiting to 
show their allegiance to their King and Queen. 
Almost every available place on the stands, on 
balconies, ledges, roofs, or in windows, even to 
the upper stories, was already filled by eager 
lookersron. Everywhere were waving flags 



1 8 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

and hangings of scarlet or royal blue or purple. 
Tall white pillars, on each of which was a shield 
with the name and date of one of England's 
monarchs, swaying ropes of laurel, and an oc- 
casional great white archway, rendered White- 
hall indeed fit for the passage of a king. 

Between these rows of soldiers, and under the 
arches, rolled a long succession of motor cars 
and carriages, carrying the guests to the Abbey. 
At first there were mainly neat broughams, 
modest limousines, or even shabby four-wheel- 
ers; but when the peers began to pass, Betty 
cried, *^ That one's exactly like Cinderella's 
coach! " 

My lord and lady, whoever they might be, 
were in magnificent array. The shining coach, 
with its coat of arms, was swung high, and its 
steps were haughtily drawn up as if to em- 
phasize the distance of the fine people it carried 
from the '^ common herd." There were four 
horses in heavy harness with elaborate silver 
mountings and pale-blue hangings, and the pom- 
pous coachman in his powdered wig and the two 
footmen up behind wore gorgeous liveries of 
blue and silver. 

As these coaches passed, John exclaimed, 
*^ Well, I didn't suppose there were such fool 
things except on the stage ! ' ' but he really was 
impressed by the splendor, all the same. 

And now many such coaches came in view; 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 19 

one or more was in sight all the time. Some 
had gay yellow wheels; some had three foot- 
men on the perch behind; some liveries were 
plum-color and some black, with much gold 
fringe; a few coachmen wore lavender stock- 
ings, which were in startling contrast with their 
scarlet coats. And from behind the little win- 
dows of all the coaches one caught glimpses of 
silks, velvets, and ermine, of pretty faces, the 
flash of jewels, or of uniforms with lines of 
jeweled decorations across the breast. And 
while these grand coaches and more common- 
place carriages were rolling by, the soldiers oc- 
casionally moved about, one company relieving 
another; officers galloped past, giving orders; 
and some one in court dress, or a bishop in his 
flowing robes, proceeded on foot towards the 
Abbey. 

Then, all of a sudden, it rained; and for, per- 
haps, a quarter of an hour the huge stands, the 
balconies, ledges, roofs, and sidewalks were 
transformed into a mass of innumerable black 
umbrellas, with an occasional bedraggled silk 
parasol in their midst. However, when the first 
procession began to pass, at about ten o'clock, 
there were very few umbrellas to be seen. This 
procession was composed of state carriages, 
some open and some closed, carrying the repre- 
sentatives from foreign countries. Each was in 
his state uniform, varying from the Eastern 



20 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

princes in their vivid colors and dazzling jewels, 
to the United States special ambassador in Ms 
severe black frock coat. In the next procession, 
arriving half an hour later, were members of 
the English royal family, the coach bearing the 
royal children bringing up the rear. 

Loud were the cheers and many the smiles and 
cries of ^^ God bless him! " which greeted the 
Prince of Wales ; pretty Princess Mary and the 
three little princes, in their sailor-suits and close 
caps, had their share of the cheering, too. Dig- 
nified, though shy, the eldest prince and his sis- 
ter bowed stiffly; but the little princes only 
looked out upon the crowds with big, round, 
astonished eyes. 

'' What a bore for them! '' was John's ver- 
dict of the situation; but Philip and Barbara, 
loyal British subjects, were talking most 
familiarly about the children. 

** They were all there except little Prince 
John," remarked Barbara. '' Where do you 
suppose he is? Perhaps they left him at Wind- 
sor, he's so little." 

'' It must be ripping to be a prince," said 
Philip. '' I wouldn't miss the Coronation, by 
Jove, if I were the youngest." 

Both in advance of and in the rear of those 
two processions, the Horse Guards, on their 
glistening black horses, all of the same size, the 
Yeomen of the Guard in their scarlet, slashed 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 21 

uniforms, numbers of officers of Indian regi- 
ments, in the brightest of colors, English gen- 
erals, among whom Lord Roberts and Lord 
Kitchener received almost as hearty cheers as 
royalty itself, made a wondrous pageant. More 
Yeomen of the Guard came in the third pro- 
cession, walking on each side of the gilded 
coach in which rode King George and Queen 
Mary. 

As this picturesque coach, with its eight 
cream-colored horses, each led by a groom in 
livery, its gorgeous trappings, and its outriders, 
came slowly down Whitehall, even John and 
Betty felt a thrill. John focused his camera 
and Betty stood on tiptoe. Every one cheered, 
but there was no wild demonstration. The 
British public seldom allows its really great 
devotion to its sovereign to be seen, and it was 
only now and then that a man forgot himself. 
As the gold coach passed, carrying the King, 
almost lost in his huge cape, a stolid Briton sit- 
ting beside Betty (he had been reading the 
morning Times during the greater part of the 
day) suddenly arose, tossed up his cap, and 
shouted boisterously: '^ There goes the greatest 
man in the world, by Jove! '' 

After the coach had passed, lurching on its 
way to the Abbey, there was a general stir. 
Soldiers broke ranks, exhausted people sat down 
upon the curb, occupants of the stands left their 



22 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

places, and every one took advantage of the 
two hours which must elapse before royalty 
would again pass that way. 

'' dear, I do wish it wasn't over! '' Betty 



'' But we're going to see them again, and 
they'll have on their crowns," said Barbara 
comfortingly. 

** The very crowns we saw at the Tower! " 
exclaimed Philip. 

John's remark was practical. " Can't we 
have something to eat now! " said he. 

An attack was accordingly made upon the re- 
freshment booth in the garden, but so great were 
the crowds that it was impossible to buy much 
there. Fortunately they had brought with them 
a box of crackers and a bag of raisins as 
emergency rations. 

* \ No matter, ' ' said Mrs. Pitt ; ' ' we '11 be home 
by three o'clock, and can have tea." 

But the ceremony inside the dark old Abbey 
took longer than the authorities had expected, 
and it was after two o'clock when the soldiers 
formed in line, the people took their places, and 
the King and Queen passed, crowned, and car- 
rying in their hands jeweled scepters. 

" Why, I didn't know that the Prince of 
Wales and Princess Mary would have crowns, 
too ! ' ' cried Barbara, as the royal children came 
in sight. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 23 

Back trooped the mounted officers and the In- 
dians, the *^ Beefeaters," and all the foreign 
royalties and ambassadors, in splendid array; 
back came the Lord Mayor, in his magnificence, 
which almost rivals that of Their Majesties; 
back came all the coaches of the peers, the 
motor cars and the four-wheelers. People were 
beginning to leave their seats, and Mrs. Pitt 
finally persuaded her party to start, also. The 
*^ Tube '' carried them close to the Pitts' home 
in Cavendish Square, where all was as quiet as 
on a summer Sunday afternoon. 

Taking off her raincoat and her hat, and put- 
ting down her field-glass and her crumpled 
programme of the day's festivities, Betty 
sighed: ^^ Did we really see it! It seems like a 
dream! " 

It is much to be able to persuade a London 
official to change his mind, but John did it two 
days later. It was at noon of the warm Satur- 
day following the Coronation, and, happening to 
pass St. James's, John and Betty heard some 
one say that the Duke of Connaught was soon 
to review the Yeomen of the Guard on the lawn 
behind the Palace. 

^' Oh, John, we can't get in unless we have 
cards of admission ! The sentry says so ! " 

Whenever John saw that disappointed look 
upon his sister's face, he knew that the time 
had come for him to exert himself. 



24 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

'' Wait till I tackle him,'' said he, thrusting 
his hands deep in his pockets, and striding 
toward the tall man in uniform who barred their 
way. 

'' You see, sir, we didn't know about the cards 
to get in ; we didn 't even know about the review 
till we were just walking by the Palace. We're 
from America, and my sister 's just crazy about 
those ' Beefeaters.' Couldn't you let us in? " 

First there came a half-smile and a glance of 
amusement ; then a whispered consultation with 
a superior officer; and, at last, the welcome 
words: '^ Get your sister and go straight 
along in. Follow that party, and you'll be all 
right. ' ' 

"' We won't be able to see a thing unless we 
can be near the front," said Betty anxiously, 
feeling a little timid to be alone with John 
among so many fashionably-dressed people ; but 
just then a gentleman in a silk hat made room 
for them to step in front of him. 

The Yeomen of the Guard were drawn up in 
two long lines in the center of the green grass. 
They carried tall staves with tassels and shining 
points, and wore queer wide-brimmed hats with 
square crowns, and big red rosettes on their 
heavy shoes; on their scarlet breasts were the 
crown with the letter G and the Eoman numeral 
V on either side, and the rose of England be- 
low; on their backs were displayed the thistle 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 25 

and the shamrock in elaborate embroideries. 
The various badges and decorations of each 
man added to the brilliant effect of the scarlet 
cloth and gold braid. 

" Bully! " cried John. '' They look great 
when you see so many of them together. Betty, 
who do you think those other soldiers are, the 
ones with the flying white and yellow feathers 
in their hats ! ' ' 

'' Those are officers who are in charge this 
morning, officers of the Duke's staff,'' explained 
their friend. 

' ' Oh, are they ? The Duke of Connaught, do 
you mean! He isn't here yet, is he? " Hav- 
ing found somebody willing to answer ques- 
tions, John meant to learn all he could. 

* ' And would you please tell me who the Duke 
of Connaught is, sir? " put in Betty. " I can't 
exactly remember. ' ' 

' ' Quite so ! Quite so ! " said the kind gentle- 
man. ^^ The Duke is the King's uncle, you see, 
and the late King Edward's brother. You will 
like him. No, he isn't here yet, but very soon 
you will see him come out that door, over 
there. ' ' 

A band was playing now under some trees, 
more people were arriving all the time, and the 
gay crowd, strolling about this green inclosure 
so near the dingy brick walls of old St. James's 
Palace, made a lovely picture. John and Betty 



26 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

were feeling very happy to think that they were 
there. 

All at once every one stopped talking, the 
musicians played '^ God Save the King," and 
down the steps of Clarence House, the residence 
of the Duke of Connaught, which adjoins St. 
James ■ s Palace, came the Duke, followed by his 
son. Prince Arthur, a royal visitor from Spain, 
and some members of the Duke's household. 

^' Well, he looks more like a king than any- 
body I've ever seen! " cried Betty, grasping 
John's arm in her enthusiasm. 

Wonderfully erect and soldierly is the Duke, 
in spite of his white hair and his years. He 
was genuinely gracious as he shook hands and 
spoke a few words with several of the officers. 
Then, advancing to a point exactly in front of 
the lines of Yeomen of the Guard, he raised his 
hand to his forehead, and instantly they gave 
their answering salute. Afterwards, while the 
band played softly, the party walked the length 
of each row of the Guards, the Duke in the lead. 
To each old man he made some pleasant remark, 
sometimes bringing a quick smile to a face, as 
he touched a gold medal ; on the breast of one of 
the oldest he pinned a new badge, probably for 
long service. 

'^ So that's how they review soldiers,'' said 
Betty; *^ I've always wanted to know." 

The Duke had now disappeared, having 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 27 

stopped a moment to speak with his two little 
grandsons, children of the Crown Prince and 
Princess of Sweden, who had watched the re- 
view from a low balcony of Clarence House. 

** But you never thought you'd come here and 
see the Duke of Connaught do the stunt, did you, 
Betty? '' Then John added, '' Thank you, sir, 
for helping us to see,'' and touched his cap as 
the tall gentleman moved away. Betty and 
he lingered a few moments in order to watch 
the people and to get a nearer view of the 
gorgeous '' Beefeaters," who were then min- 
gling with the crowd ; then they hastened away 
to meet Mrs. Pitt, Philip, and Barbara, impa- 
tient to tell of their adventure. 

Another very nice thing happened that after- 
noon. As Mrs. Pitt knew one of the clergy con- 
nected with Westminster Abbey, she had been 
invited by him to bring the young people to see 
the Abbey. John had pronounced this privilege 
*^ corking," and Philip and Barbara had been 
radiant with anticipation ; but Betty looked very 
sober, much to the surprise of them all. 

*^ I know it is perfectly horrid of me," she 
said; '^ but I'm so afraid I sha'n't like it. I'll 
hate to see the dear Abbey with the monuments 
all covered up, and I just know they will put 
purple velvet, or red, everywhere. But he's 
lovely to ask us, and I'll go, of course," she 
added resignedly. 



28 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

** Fancy feeling so about it, Betty! It's 
really a chance which very few will be fortunate 
enough to have before Monday, when the Abbey 
will be thrown open to the public." But then, 
Betty was very often heard expressing strange 
little ideas, which sometimes even Mrs. Pitt did 
not understand. 

As it proved, even Betty came away with only 
the most beautiful impression of what she saw. 
It was true that every one of the hundreds of 
monuments and statues had quite vanished; 
Westminster Abbey had banished its dead and 
given itself over to the splendors of the living. 
Rows and rows of seats had been built in every 
possible place, even as high up as the clerestory 
windows ; these were all covered with cloth of an 
old blue color, and the hangings near the altar 
were of a kind of cut velvet in two tones of the 
same soft blue. 

The clergyman was most considerate. He 
took them up into the organ-loft to view the Ab- 
bey from there; he explained about the posi- 
tions of the different seats, this one for the 
Prince of Wales, this for the Duke of Con- 
naught, and another to which the Queen came to 
be crowned; he showed them the magnificent 
gold plate on the altar, and two rugs of very 
great value which had been loaned for the cov- 
ering of the floor of the chancel. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 29 

'* Is it all just as it was on Coronation day? " 
Betty asked. 

^^ Qnite the same/' nodded their friend, as he 
opened the door for them ; ' ' quite the same, ex- 
cept for the velvets and ermines, the uniforms, 
the jewels, and the beautiful women.'' 

The party planned to take the train for Scot- 
land on Wednesday of the week following Coro- 
nation, and on the night before came what John 
considered ^^ the bulliest stunt of all." Mrs. 
Pitt had tickets for the Gala Performance at 
His Majesty's Theater, the performance which 
King George and Queen Mary, with all their 
foreign visitors, were to attend. 

** I've never felt quite so big in all my life! " 
Betty announced solemnly, as she drew over her 
white silk frock the dainty pink cape bought at 
fascinating Liberty's shop on purpose for this 
grand occasion. 

*^ Mother! They're peering in at us as if 
they think we are lords and ladies, or some 
royalties ! ' ' chattered Barbara as their taxicab 
hurried towards Haymarket. 

* ^ Do they do this whenever King George goes 
to the theater?" put in John. ''Why! the 
streets are jammed with people, just as if there 
was going to be a parade! My! look, Philip! 
There are soldiers opposite the theater, and a 
band's coming up from Pall Mall there, a band 



30 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

with black muffs on their heads ! This is great ! " 

There were so many attractions outside that 
Mrs. Pitt could hardly induce the young people 
to go to their seats. A carpet was stretched 
luxuriously over the sidewalk; there were 
flowers and blazing lights. Carriages were 
driving up, and so many ladies and gentlemen 
were alighting that the entrances were crowded. 

' ' Our tickets are orange, and we go in at this 
door with the orange sign, ' ' said John. ' ' Come 
on!'' 

The way of the holders of the big, square, 
orange tickets lay up several flights of stairs to 
the second balcony. 

'' Bother! " John burst out thoughtlessly. 
* ^ We can see the stage all right, but mighty few 
of the people! "Where are King George and 
Queen Mary? " 

** Hush, John! Mrs. Pitt '11 think you're so 
rude! Probably the King and Qu^en aren't 
here yet. These are our seats," and Betty sat 
down and began to look eagerly about her. 

Such beautiful women in magnificent cos- 
tumes ; such jewels on their gowns, about their 
necks, in their hair; such grand gentlemen in 
uniforms of scarlet or blue, with gold braid. ' ' I 
can't see one man in a plain dress-suit," said 
John; ^' if they couldn't scrape up any uniform, 
they wear black velvet and three-cornered hats. 
There's a Jap over there. See him, Betty? " 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 31 

** Yes, that black velvet is the court costume/' 
remarked Mrs. Pitt absently, trying to loosen a 
bit of fringe on her gown which had caught on 
the gold buckle of an officer who occupied the 
seat in front of hers. 

** Mother, isn't that the Lord Mayor with the 
gold chain around his neck, there in that box 
at the left I I can just see him by standing up. ' ' 

'' Yes, Philip, that's he," said Mrs. Pitt, as 
she turned and beckoned to an usher. ^ * May I 
have another programme, please? " 

The neat woman in a black dress and a white 
cap with long streamers, muttered a ^' Thank 
you, madam," as she obeyed the request. 

'^ We have some women ushers at home 
now," Betty remarked, ^' but I never saw them 
carry little trays with ices to sell and candy 

and Oh, are they coming? " stopping 

short as the musicians played ^^ God Save the 
King," and people rose to their feet. 

^' It's queer to know they're here, and not be 
able to see them," said Barbara to Betty. 
^' They don't sit in a box, but in the center of 
the first balcony, right under where we are. ' ' 

Then the curtains parted, Forbes-Robertson 
stepped out, and read the lines of welcome to 
Their Majesties. There followed the ^^ Letter 
Scene " from Shakespeare's ^' Merry Wives of 
Windsor," played by Miss Terry and Mrs. 
Kendal. 



32 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

* * Ellen Terry ! ' ' whispered Betty, with a lit- 
tle thrill of excitement. ^^ I've always wanted 
to see her ! She's the tall, graceful one in rose- 
color, isn't she? Now I know why people say 
she'll never grow old! Isn't she beautiful? " 

Then there was a scene from '' David Gar- 
rick, ' ' and the ^ ^ Forum Scene ' ' from ' ' Julius 
Caesar, ' ' the latter particularly delighting John. 

** That mob was great! " he declared. '^ I 
thought they'd tear down the theater." 

" No wonder," said Mrs. Pitt; " the people in 
that mob were all actors of note, instead of mere 
* supers ' picked up for a few nights' run. 
That's one stage mob in a thousand! " 

When the curtain went down on '^ Julius 
Caesar," Mrs. Pitt hurriedly left her seat, fol- 
lowed by the others. Quickly they went to a 
door on the extreme left of their balcony, close 
to the boxes, from which they could have a 
splendid view of royalty. The first balcony and 
the floor of the theater were ablaze with color 
and the flash of jewels. The orchestra seats 
were occupied by members of the nobility and 
diplomats, while in the center of the balcony sat 
Their Majesties, surrounded by their foreign 
guests and the special ambassadors. 

** That must be the Duchess of Marlborough! 
It looks just like her pictures ! Do you see her ? 
There, in the fourth row ! ' ' 

** Is that the German Crown Princess on the 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 33 

King's left, the one in pale blue with all the 
diamonds? She's sweet! " 

'^ Just look at all the Indians! They're as 
gorgeous as they were the other day in the pro- 
cession! " 

* * Queen Mary looks ripping in corn color and 
emeralds! " 

** Oh, I've found the dear Duke of Con- 
naught! Is that his daughter. Princess Patri- 
cia, do you suppose? " 

There was much more to see, many more cele- 
brated actors and actresses to admire, but, as 
Betty admitted afterwards, she was ^^ too 
dazed to take it in." Vaguely she remembered 
the charming effect of light and color in a 
masque by Ben Jonson, and she stood up 
in order to get one last glimpse of Ellen Terry, 
when all who had taken part appeared on the 
stage, but she was too sleepy to pay much at- 
tention to the final singing of ^^ God Save the 
King." 

Slowly they descended the stairs and found 
a taxicab to take them home. When Barbara 
woke her, in time to catch the Glasgow express 
the next morning, Betty was dreaming that she 
was one of Queen Mary's ladies-in-waiting, and 
was being severely scolded because she yawned 
at the Gala Performance. 



CHAPTER TWO 



OBAN, STAFFA, AND lONA 



**Why!" exclaimed Betty, as she came 
down the steps of the Great Western Hotel, 
'^ truly it hurts my eyes, it's so bright and 
sparkly! '' 

Betty's '^ it " referred to many lovely things. 
In the first place, the sky was deep blue and 
cloudless, with the bay hardly a shade less blue 
except where thousands of dancing sunbeams 
fell upon it, turning its surface into so shining 
a gold that the copper-colored sails of the little 
fishing-boats looked a dull brown in comparison. 
There were the green wooded shores and, in 
the distance, the soft, hazy outline of the island 
of Kerrera, which lies across the entrance of 
Oban Bay, making it appear almost like a 
lake, — and it was not yet eight o'clock of a 
morning in June. 

'' See all the yachts! " cried John, walking 
along Oban's prettiest street, which skirts the 
bay; '' that's a dandy, — that with the French 
flag! And will you look at all the steamers? 
Where are they all going to? " 

34 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 35 

" ^ 'Tis there the steamboats drive about — 

My tongue is no deceiver — 
Out and in, and in and out, 

Like shuttle of the weaver; 
'Tis now to Mull, and now to Skye, 

And now to mouth of Clyde, sir. 
Like magic steed, with snorting speed, 

They paw the purple tide, sir! 

" ' For Oban is a dainty place ; 

In distant or in nigh lands, 
No town delights the tourist race 
Like Oban in the Highlands ! ' " 

So sang Mrs. Pitt, and her song met with in- 
stant approval from the children. 

'' Oh, Mother! Is it all about Oban? Sing 
us the rest, please! " 

* * Wait until we are settled on the boat, Bar- 
bara. Here we are now at the pier. Fancy ! so 
many people at Oban, and it not yet July! It's 
because of the fine weather, I'm sure. It's 
well we took advantage of it and came straight 
away north. ' ' 

They made their way through the crowd on 
the pier and up to the boat which bore the sign, 
^^ Staffa and lona," displayed near the gang- 
plank. 

No wonder Oban is named the ** Charing 
Cross of the Highlands. ' ' Here meet people of 
all countries, types, and tastes. Having se- 
cured good places in the bow of the boat, Mrs. 
Pitt and the others amused themselves by 



36 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

watching their fellow-passengers come aboard. 

a There's the little Frenchman and his bride 
from our hotel," commented Barbara, '^ — the 
ones with such dreadful table manners ! She '11 
be cold in that thin lavender frock, and the wind 
will be sure to tear her chiffon hat to pieces. ' ' 

*^ I think these chaps are from one of the 
universities," said Philip, pointing out some 
young men in knickerbockers, armed with walk- 
ing-sticks and cameras. 

^^ Can you guess who these men are, John I " 
inquired Mrs. Pitt. ** Do you see their rough 
homespun clothes! If you were nearer, you 
could hear them talking Gaelic. They're sheep 
farmers from Mull, who have been over at Oban 
for fair day. Here come some botanists and 
geologists. You can always recognize the 
former by their queer leather pouches, and the 
latter by their hammers. It's all just exactly 
as my song says," and Mrs. Pitt chanted two 
more verses : 

"^At Oban all tlie world you see, 

The doctor and the scholar, 
The poor man with his penny fee, 

The rich man with his dollar; 
The father with his hopeful boy, 

The mother with her daughters, 
All flock to plash about with joy 

Like ducks in Oban waters. 

"^For Oban is a dainty place, etc. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 37 

" ^ At Oban on the pier, how gay, 

How motley and how gxand, sir, 
With tourists all in quaint array, 

About to leave the land, sir! 
The priest who steals short holiday, 

The prince who goes incog., sir. 
The schoolboy with his dreams of play, 

The sportsman with his dog, sir. 

"*For Oban is a dainty place, etc' 

*^ That's all I can remember/' she laughed, 
as they demanded still more. *^ See! The 
Captain's at the wheel, and we're away! " 

i i There 's one thing that gets me, ' ' remarked 
John, as the boat was passing through the nar- 
row strait between Kerrera and the mainland, 
with its many villas, ** where are all the kilts! 
Why don't we see them anywhere? I always 
thought they were thick up north here." 

*' That's so, John. So did I," put in his 
sister. 

** Yes, I dare say you did," Mrs. Pitt an- 
swered; '' I suppose most people think so, and 
it's quite a pity that they have to be disap- 
pointed. You see, in 1746, just after the final 
defeat of Prince Charlie at Culloden Moor, three 
leaders, Lovat, Balmerino, and Kilmarnock, 
were beheaded for attempting to replace the 
Stuart line upon the throne, and many cruel 
measures were taken to subdue the Highlanders. 



38 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

By what was called the Disarming Act, the 
wearing of the kilt was forbidden by Parlia- 
ment, which evidently believed in the old prov- 
erb: ^ Take the feather from a man's bonnet, 
and he won't look so proudly.' In these days 
you may see more kilts on the Surrey heaths, 
for example, than in all the Highlands. Thus 
has come the saying, ' If you see a fellow with 
a kilt in the Highlands, be sure he is either an 
Englishman or a fool. ' ' ' 

"■ I say. Mother ! it is too bad, isn't it? " said 
Philip feelingly. 

*^ Well," said Betty, ^' there's one comfort, 
the soldiers still wear them, and sometimes lit- 
tle boys do. I've seen one on this boat." 

'' Here's something funny," she continued 
with a laugh, as she took up the guidebook. 
** It says here that we're now ' beating on the 
broad Atlantic! ' " 

*^ ' Beating ' is great," shouted John. 
** Don't see how the water could be much 
smoother, myself! " 

'' You don't appreciate our good fortune, 
John. This trip is likely to be a fairly rough 
one; we're having such weather as is very 
rarely enjoyed here. Often people cannot be 

landed at Fingal's cave, but to-day Dear 

me ! whatever is that? " 

The sound which so startled Mrs. Pitt seemed 
to issue from a lower deck, and its shrillness 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 39 

and jangle suggested a very mueli dilapidated 
mandolin. Somebody appeared to be practis- 
ing for a concert, and a number of popular rag- 
time selections were played over and over. 

^' I don't think I should much enjoy the con- 
cert itself, and the rehearsal is positively un- 
bearable," said Mrs. Pitt, as they pulled their 
chairs to a distant part of the deck. 

'' It's worse than that girl we saw yesterday, 
— ^the one who sang Harry Lauder's songs while 
the boat went through the Crinan Canal on our 
way from Glasgow. Don't you remember, 
John? " 

^ ' Gruess I didn 't see her. I was walking, you 
know. Couldn't stay aboard, the old boat 
crawled so. Was it in that mile where there 
were nine locks'? Whew! it sure was hot walk- 
ing, though! " and John mopped his forehead 
again at the mere recollection of the previous 
day. 

** Well," persevered Betty, *^ there was a girl 
in Highland dress, with a feather in her tarn, 
who stood at each lock as we were going 
through. She played some tunes on a mouth 
organ, and danced at the same time, and there 
was a little boy who sang sometimes. It was 
awfully queer, but people threw her pennies 
just the same. ' ' 

^^ Yes, but the greatest was when those five 
kids ran along by the canal-boat, — ^back there. 



40 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

before we had come to any locks. They didn't 
ask for pennies ; people just threw them over to 
the bank, and those fellows were so stupid they 
lost lots of them in the tall grass." 

' ' And there were some sweet little girls who 
came along and sold milk," Barbara was begin- 
ning, when they all had to hurry to see why the 
boat was slowing down, outside a lonely harbor 
of the Island of Mull. 

a There's a rowboat on our starboard side," 
announced John, proud of his vocabulary of 
nautical terms acquired during his acquaintance 
with a tall sailor who washed the promenade 
deck of the Oceanic. ' ' There are two men in it, 
and they're taking some women and things otf 
our boat. ' ' The ^ ^ things ' ' consisted of babies 
and barrels, boxes and mailbags of all sizes and 
weights. Leaning over the rail, John and the 
rest watched the entire proceeding until the 
Grenadier finally steamed away, leaving the tiny 
boat to struggle through the swell of the steam- 
er's wake. 

^' Wonder where those people are going," said 
Barbara thoughtfully, as they went back to their 
chairs. ^ ' I can see hills and valleys and woods 
on Mull, but there's only one house in sight. 
That seems to be a summer place, too; people 
in white clothes came out and waved to the 
steamer. Aren't there any towns on Mull, 
Mother? " 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 41 

** Oh, yes, there are a few. There's Tober- 
mory. You'll see that later; I think we stop 
there on our return this afternoon. There are 
very few places of enough importance to have 
a pier, however, so the mail and passengers are 
landed in small boats, as you just now saw. ' ' 

'' Is that Harry Lauder's * Tobermory '? " 
interrupted John with a grin. ^' He sings 
about one, you know, but I didn't suppose it was 
a real place." 

'^ Oh, I imagine it is the same one, John. 
Why not? " 

Although they felt sure that the day was a 
very warm one ashore, they found it delight- 
fully cool on the water, which remained as 
smooth as the poorest sailor could wish. On 
went the Grenadier, with the cliffs and moun- 
tains of Mull on one hand, and many small and 
rocky islands on the other. At length the 
steamer ran very close to one of these, which is 
called Erraid, and which is pointed out as the 
island on which David in Stevenson's ** Kid- 
napped " was lost. 

* * Oh, yes, ' ' said Philip, who greatly admired 
Stevenson. *^ I remember, don't you? David 
had been shipwrecked, and finally reached this 
little island, which really is not an island at all, 
because at low tide it is connected with the 
mainland. ' ' 

** Oh, I've read that, too! " broke in John, 



42 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

who was sometimes slow in connecting one 
thought with another. ^' David was fool 
enough to stay there till he almost starved; 
then some fishermen told him he could just as 
well go ashore as not. David's old uncle had 
him kidnapped, didn 't he % But I wouldn 't have 
cared! He had some bully exciting times on 
that ship! " 

Very soon they came to lona, a barren island 
with a gray old cathedral standing high in a 
distant field. The passengers were helped into 
two small boats, and were rowed to a pier made 
of rough boulders. 

' ' Did you ever see such lovely white sand ! ' ' 
cried Betty, as they stepped ashore and fell in 
with the big party which was following the 
guide up the village street. 

lona has a population of only about one hun- 
dred and fifty, but it can boast of having been 
a place of some importance when St. Columba 
landed there, perhaps as long ago as the 
year 563. 

'' He and a few other monks set sail from 
Ireland in a small boat," said Mrs. Pitt. 
** They did not like to leave their country, but 
did it because they wished to carry the Chris- 
tian religion to these wild inhabitants of the 
Scottish islands. Their little boat came safely 
across the waters, and brought them first of 
all to an island somewhat south from here. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 43 

Landing and going to the highest point, St. Co- 
lumba shaded his eyes and looked towards the 
west. Dim on the horizon he could just see the 
coast of Ireland, and a great longing came over 
him to return to his home there, where his work 
was well established, and where he had many 
faithful followers. Instead of this, he went 
back to his wa-iting friends and bade them push 
on still farther. At length the boat touched 
Zona's shore, and here they remained, purposely 
allowing their boat to drift away with the tide. 
There is no glimpse of the ^ Emerald Isle ' to be 
had from gray lona.'' 

^* But what did they do here on this lone- 
some island, all by themselves I ' ' inquired Bar- 
bara, who, with Betty, was walking close by her 
mother's side. 

* ' They built rough huts to live in, and a little 
chapel of some sort. After a while St. Co- 
lumba began to make expeditions to the main- 
land, and people were converted to Christianity. 
The story of these holy men who lived alone 
on this remote island spread to distant coun- 
tries, and other holy and learned men joined 
them here. The years went by, and gradually 
lona became a favored retreat for kings and 
scholars, knights and pilgrims, — for those who 
were ill and those who sought quiet and com- 
fort. At one time there were one hundred and 
fifty men living here. When not off on trips to 



44 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

convert pagans, St. Columba was shut up in his 
tiny, bare cell here at lona, which he loved, 
making copies of the Psalms and the Gospels 
for his followers to carry out on their mission- 
ary trips. He was at work thus on the night 
before he died. At dark he closed the book 
and said : ' Here I make an end. What follows 
Baithene will write. ' There are dozens of beau- 
tiful legends about this saint, who did much 
good for people in other ways than religious 
ones. ' ' 

**Well, what's this, I'd like to know? It 
wasn't here in old Columba 's day! " John did 
not intend to be disrespectful to the saint; he 
was simply tired for the moment of listening to 
so much serious talk about him. 

They had turned in at a little gate, where- 
upon they found themselves face to face with a 
shop which displayed for sale the most fascinat- 
ing of silver wares. Close at hand was the pic- 
turesque ruin of the former nunnery of the 
island, the charter for which, dated 1203, may 
still be seen in the Vatican Library at Rome. 
But few are the tourists who have eyes for 
the thirteenth-century ruin until they have ad- 
mired and purchased at the twentieth-century 
shop. Well did the guide realize this important 
fact, — ^he who himself designs and makes the 
silver articles! There was a long halt here; 
this official guide, appointed by the Church of 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 45 

Scotland, to which the late Duke of Argyll left 
the ruins at lona, did not once become im- 
patient or urge his party on. 

*^ This is a dandy! '' cried John, picking up 
a scarf-pin made after the pattern of the old 
Celtic swords, — the swords which are so often 
seen on ancient tombs. ^ * Let 's buy it, Betty ! ' ' 

* ^ I simply must have this little silver cross ! ' ' 
his sister was just then exclaiming. ^ ^ The man 
says it's a copy of St. Martin's cross, near the 
cathedral. We're going to see it now. He says 
there were once three hundred and sixty crosses 
at lona, but there are only two whole ones now. 
It's only eight and six, and it's real silver! " 

Then, the bills having been paid, on they went 
past the nunnery, with its crumbling walls and 
arches, up a narrow lane between high walls, 
where the ancient McLean Cross still stands, 
until they came to the oddest cemetery which 
they had ever seen. 

In a rough field is a tiny chapel supposed to 
have been erected by Queen Margaret Canmore, 
Scotland's sainted queen, who lived in the 
eleventh century; and not far away are two 
groups of flat gravestones, each in two long 
rows. 

^ ^ There are forty-eight Scottish kings buried 
here, so 'tis said, four Kings of Ireland, eight 
Norwegian princes, several royal infants, and 
many Lords of the Isles, bishops, abbots, priors. 



46 JOHN AND BETTY^S 

and chiefs of various powerful clans, such as 
McLeods, McLeans, Mackinnons, Macquarries, 

and '^ On and on went the guide with his 

astonishing facts. 

' ' See the lovely old ship on that one, ' ' whis- 
pered Betty, pointing as she spoke. *^ It's like 
a Eoman galley." 

^^ Yes," replied the guide. '^ It marks the 
grave of a famous pirate. And this stone cov- 
ers a McLean, whose ghost rides a black horse, 
carries his head under his arm, and is always 
seen before a death occurs in the McLean fam- 
ily. The McLeans owned lona for centuries, 
you know." 

' ' Give me that fellow without a head ! ' ' cried 
John. 

** Betty, do you realize that King Duncan is 
buried here, — ^he whom Macbeth murdered? " 

*^ Eeally! " gasped poor Betty, who was al- 
most speechless by this time. 

^* And," continued the guide, *^ we also have 
here the grave of King Coil of Ayrshire, — * Old 
King Cole ' of the song, you know," he re- 
minded them, seeing that they failed to be prop- 
erly impressed. ^^ Now I'll have to ask you to 
step this way; your time is limited." 

lona Cathedral is rather disappointing, espe- 
cially from the outside, because of very recent 
restorations which make it appear almost mod- 
em; but inside there are some exceedingly an- 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 47 

cient arches and pillars which convince one 
that the building really was erected in the early- 
part of the thirteenth century. St. Martin's 
cross, which some believe to have remained in 
the same position, near the Cathedral's western 
door, for about one thousand years, is altogether 
delightful, both in its beautiful Celtic design 
and in the exquisite grayish-green effect which 
the dampness and the clinging lichens have 
given it. 

'' How is it possible for the cross to have been 
so marvelously preserved? " Mrs. Pitt asked 
the guide. 

" It's lona's climate, madam. We have no 
snow nor frost here in winter, only terrible 
winds. I know, for I've lived at lona all my 
life." 

The guide escorted his party back to the pier 
and assisted them into the rowboats. Arrived 
once again on board the Grenadier^ they found 
lunch awaiting them in the saloon; no sooner 
had they finished than the strange island of 
Statfa came into view. And stranger and 
stranger did it appear as they drew nearer. 

'' I think it must look like some heathen 
temple, don't you," said Betty; ^^an old temple 
on the Nile, you know? " 

Staffa's steep cliffs rise abruptly from the 
water, and they are formed of innumerable 
pillars which march, one after the other, all 



48 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

around that part of the island. The top which 
these pillars support is quite flat, and has green 
grass and a few sheep grazing there. 

^ ^ Looks like a great whopping toadstool with 
millions of stems/' remarked John. 

Once more their steamer was at a standstill, 
and two large lifeboats came to take the 
passengers to FingaPs Cave. 

'^ Who was that fellow Fingal, anyhow? 
Why did he live in a cave 1 ' ' 

^' Oh, Fingal was a famous giant, John. You 
hear a great deal about him in both the Scotch 
and the Irish fairy tales. There was a rival 
giant, too, who once challenged him to combat. 
Fingal was more than ready for his enemy, but 
how was he to cross the Irish Sea to meet him? 
It was finally agreed that they should build a 
great bridge between the two countries; so 
Fingal began on the Irish shore, while the other 
giant worked at this end. Here is all that is 
left of one giant's work, and the Giant's Cause- 
way in Ireland alone remains of Fingal 's labor. 
Both have these same queer pillars, each of a 
different shape, you know." 

Staffa means *^ the isle of columns," and in 
it are six caves, of which Fingal 's is the largest. 
The men rowed their passengers to the mouth 
of this most wonderful of the caves, with its 
huge, high entrance overhung with patches of a 
kind of brilliant yellow lichen ; here people left 





St. Martin's Cross, which some believe to haye remained in 

THE SAME position FOR ABOUT ONE THOUSAND YEARS, — Page 47. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 49 

the boats and entered ttie cave on foot by a 
narrow and slippery path over these rocks, or 
broken-off pillars. 

* * I never saw such green water ! ' ' announced 
Betty emphatically, stopping and peering into 
the cave as far as she could see. * ' I don't think 
it's very beautiful, really," she added; '' its 
roof and sides are so pointed and rough and 
queer. Are they what you call stalactites 1 ' ' 

* * Evidently you don 't share the point of view 
of a certain Frejichman who once visited 
Staffa," began Mrs. Pitt, holding fast to the 
iron rail to prevent herself from slipping. 
^^ He was so overcome by the grandeur of this 
cave that he fell down upon his knees and 
thanked God who had created it." 

** I thought the waves would be pounding in 
here and dashing up over the rocks and making 
no end of a booming noise," said Philip. 

^^ Yes," agreed John, ^^ I thought it would be 
more exciting somehow. I wish the water 
wasn't so smooth to-day; I wish the boat really 
would ^ beat on the broad Atlantic. ' Come on ; 
let's climb around outside." 

The children enjoyed the scramble over the 
uneven pillars; they chased each other, ran 
races, and each sat seriously down in Fingal's 
Wishing Chair to make his three dearest wishes. 
Climbing slowly along in the hot sun, Mrs. Pitt 
reached the rowboat before the others, whom 



50 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

the big boatmen threatened to leave behind, so 
long did they linger. 

The next few hours were quietly spent upon 
the boat, watching the small white birds which 
flew in procession over the water, numbers 
of long-necked black birds which performed 
truly remarkable feats of swimming and diving, 
and, best of all, some very large fish which, 
from time to time, lashed their great tails above 
the waves. John insisted that they were 
whales, and this, of course, caused considerable 
excitement among the party. A stop was made 
at the pleasant, sheltered harbor of Tobermory, 
and soon the square pile of Duart Castle, high 
on its rocky point, was reached. 

'^ It was the chief stronghold of the Mc- 
Leans,'' explained Mrs. Pitt. ^^ They were my 
mother's people, you know, Betty, and I am very 
proud of them all. Of course, there were some 
great thieves and villains among them, but I 
admire those, too. These McLeans of Duart 
always did things on such a grand scale! If 
they were going to steal sheep or cattle belong- 
ing to some foe, they did not bother to carry 
away a few ; they took hundreds, — droves, whole 
flocks I Ah! they were brave people, — ^the 
Duart McLeans! " 

They had now passed the ruined castle, and 
a lighthouse was in sight on their left. 

** It is Lismore Light," Mrs. Pitt went on 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 51 

enthusiastically, " and the Lady Rock close by 
is connected with these same ancestors of mine, 
the McLeans. No, John, I know; we can't see 
the rock at high tide, but it's there where you 
see the iron beacon. One of the Duart McLeans 
took his wife to the Lady Rock and left her 
there for the tide to sweep her away. Tri- 
umphantly he set out for Inveraray to announce 
her death to her brother, the Duke of Argyll; 
but, even as the two men talked together, the 
lady herself appeared in their presence. She 
had been rescued by some fishermen. Yes," 
laughed the loyal descendant of the McLeans, 
" I even glory in that deed! His method was 
such a bold and original one that it only added 
to the clan's fame! " 

'' Hope the Duke did something to him that 
served him right ! ' ' 

^* Oh, he had his deserts, John; never fear. 
He made his escape to Edinburgh, but his wife's 
second brother, Campbell of Cawdor, followed 
him there and killed him. But see, we're op- 
posite Dunollie Castle, and Oban is already in 
sight." 

Oban was just as gay and just as radiant at 
six o'clock in the evening as it had been when 
they left it at eight o'clock the same morning. 
Its villas are built in long terraces on various 
levels of the hill which rises at the back of the 
town ; and above them all is the strange, unfin- 



52 JOHN AND BETTY 

ished Coliseum-like building, called *' McCaig's 
Folly. '^ This eccentric but kind-hearted in- 
dividual had the building started to provide 
abundant work for the men of his native town, 
but it was never completed. 

*^ The street is crowded now,'' cried John; 
*^ I hear some pipers! Come on! " 

All things considered, Oban is a delightful 
place to which to return after a long day's 
jaunt. 



CHAPTER THREE 

IN THE WESTERN HIGHLANDS 

'^ . . And he was away so long, fighting in 
foreign wars, that his wife thought, of course, 
he was dead. First she built this beautiful big 
Kilchurn Castle with a keep five whole stories 
high, and then finally she decided to marry. 
But while the castle was filled with guests who 
were there for the wedding feast, a beggar ap- 
peared at the entrance. They let him come in, 
and offered him some wine, but he said he could 
not drink their healths unless the bride came 
to pour him his cupful. She did, you know, and 
when the beggar gave her back the cup, in the 
bottom of it she saw a gold ring, all set with 
heaps of precious stones. It had belonged to 
her husband, and she looked up and saw that 
the beggar was her husband, — Colin Campbell 
of Glenorchy.'' 

*^ Well,'' demanded John, ^^ go on. Sis! 
What happened then? " 

** But, John, — the book doesn't say." A 
glance at Betty's face would almost have made 
one think that she imagined herself responsible 

53 



54 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

for this very unsatisfactory ending of the 
tale. 

As the little boat, named the Countess of 
Breadalbanej waited a long time at this end of 
Loch Awe, to which the Oban train had brought 
them, they had an excellent chance to study the 
picturesque old castle pile. It stands on a rocky 
promontory, which is sometimes an island and 
sometimes connected with the shore by a bit of 
marshy land; and all about it are mountains, 
Glenstrae and Glenorchy and Ben Cruachan, 
behind their veils of lavender gauze. 

*^ All this Loch Awe country once belonged 
to the clan Macgregor," said Mrs. Pitt, as she 
fanned herself with yesterday's Glasgow paper, 
^ ^ but the Campbells drove them all out ; the last 
of the Macgregors were actually hunted along 
these shores and mountain sides, where they 
had made their home for so long. Dr. John 
Ley den has written a splendid poem about that. 
You especially would like it, John. Part of it 
runs like this : 

" ^ In the vale of Glenorchy the night breeze was sighing 
O'er the tombs where the ancient Macgregors are lying; 
Green are their graves by their soft murmuring river, 
But the name of Macgregor has perished forever/ " 

'^ That sounds like what happened at Glen- 
coe, ' ' remarked Barbara, ^ ^ but there they were 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 55 

Macdonalds who were killed, weren't they, 
Mother? '' 

* ' Yes, Barbara, the Macdonalds, men, women, 
and children, were slain during a blinding snow- 
storm in lonely Glencoe Pass. I suppose it is 
one of the most terrible massacres in all his- 
tory, far too terrible for you children to hear 
its details. The Macdonald chief had been pre- 
vented, by weather or circumstances, from tak- 
ing his oath of allegiance to the king within the 
required number of days, and this slight fault 
was seized upon as excuse for an attempt to de- 
stroy the whole clan of Glencoe Macdonalds. 
Influenced by certain Scotch enemies of the clan, 
who greatly desired the massacre. King Wil- 
liam signed the order for the attack. It 
is one of the most disgraceful blots upon his 
reign. ' ' 

'' There! We're starting away at last,'' ex- 
claimed Philip, '' and there will be a breezOo 
It is warm, you know. ' ' 

It certainly was a relief to feel the boat glid- 
ing rapidly over the lake, which lay perfectly 
smooth beneath the hot sunshine. There were 
very lovely views on all sides, views of wooded 
shores, of lofty mountains, and of numerous 
pretty little islands. 

Pointing to one of them, Mrs. Pitt said, * * Ac- 
cording to a tradition which dates from the time 
of the old poet, Ossian, it was on that island 



56 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

that a dragon kept guard over the apples of 
immortal youth. 

^' There's such a quaint legend about the 
origin of Loch Awe, Betty," she soon went on, 
after they had praised a particularly fine view 
of Ben Cruachan. ^^ I wonder if you have 
heard it. A spring, high on the side of this old 
giant mountain, was in charge of the fairies, 
who every night put a cover securely over it. 
But on one eventful night, a lovesick maiden, 
pausing to drink there, never thought to replace 
the cover. In the morning the spring had 
overflowed the whole valley, which has ever 
since been known as Loch Awe.'' 

Very soon the boat drew up at a little pier 
which was quite deserted except for one lone 
boatman and a dog. Not a house was to be 
seen, but two tired tramps sat resting by the 
roadside. 

<< Why in the world should we stop here? " 
laughed Barbara; and John called out, 
'' What's this place. Mad " (John had such 
a knack of finding out people's names without 
asking them at all!) 

The old Scotchman on the pier was busy with 
his ropes; never did he so much as look up 
from his work, but he answered John's ques- 
tion by two gruff words which certainly did 
sound like ^ ^ New York. ' ' 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 57 

** Do you hear that, Betty? '' shouted John 
in high glee. ^ ' He says this place is New York ! 
There isn't a single house in sight! Ho! Ho! 
that 's a good one ! New York ! He just ought 
to see our New York! " 

As the boat moved away, the boatman looked 
straight down at John with something suspi- 
ciously like a twinkle in his eye. This was a 
small thing, surely, but it is still troubling John. 
He can never feel quite sure whether that old 
Scotchman might not have been poking fun at 
him. 

** I say! '' cried Philip, as he felt a cold nose 
touch his hand, ^' the dog came aboard; he 
wanted to leave New York. Fancy that, 
John!'' 

After hurriedly exploring the boat, sniffing 
about in corners, and smelling the boots of the 
passengers, the little whitish mongrel lay quietly 
down on the floor between Philip and John. He 
was ever watchful, however, and when the next 
stopping-place was reached, he eagerly jumped 
ashore, where he stood overseeing the unloading 
of some boxes and barrels. Just at the last mo- 
ment, a misunderstanding man, taking the dog 
quite oif his guard, tossed him once again 
aboard the boat. So surprised was this com- 
panion of old Mac's that he lost his chance of 
leaping back to the pier. Suddenly realizing 
what a calamity had befallen him, he stood upon 



58 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

the seat, put his front paws on the railing, and 
howled. 

Betty was much concerned. ^^ What can we 
do about it? " she said. '' We're carrying him 
farther and farther away from his home. 
Wouldn't the captain go back? It isn't far, 
truly!" 

But Mrs. Pitt advised her not to appeal to 
the captain. * ' That dog can be trusted to find 
his own way home." 

At the narrow, lower end of Loch Awe, they 
left the boat and ate their luncheon at the odd 
little Ford Hotel, close by. The six or eight 
guests were seated at a long table, at the foot of 
which a typical old Scotch serving-man carved 
the meats. A younger man was there to assist 
him in his efforts to satisfy the appetites of the 
hungry tourists. 

The cold meats vanished with remarkable 
speed, and then the old Scotchman, who wore 
crisp side-whiskers, tiptoed to the left of each 
guest, tilted his head to one side, and, with an 
air of infinite pride and importance, inquired 
whether he would have ' ' stewed rhubarb or 
stewed gooseberries." 

Mrs. Pitt only looked puzzled when Betty ex- 
claimed tragically, ''• dear! the gooseberries 
are always so sour that they pucker me all up. 
I don't like rhubarb, either; I did think maybe 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 59 

we had seen the last of that when we came to 
the Highlands ! " 

'^ You can't expect to find much variety in 
such a remote inn, Betty, ' ' said Mrs. Pitt, help- 
ing herself to a large portion of the despised 
stewed rhubarb and custard. 

^' I'll back you up, Sister," said John, a 
little aside. ^' I'd give all the pennies and half- 
pennies in my pocket for some real ice-cream! 
My, but it would taste good on this hot day! 
They don't know what they miss over here. All 
they care about is tea, tea, tea, — and stewed 
things! " 

At the door a big motor car, ^ ^ like the sight- 
seeing autos at home," as John remarked, 
waited to carry the passengers over the twenty- 
five miles of rough mountain road between Loch 
Awe and Oban. As the car lumbered along, 
they talked of clans and Highland chiefs. Mrs. 
Pitt was forced to raise her voice that the others 
might hear above the rumble of the noisy engine 
and the whirr of the mountain wind in their 
ears. 

^^ How did there happen to be so many clans 
and chiefs! " Betty inquired thoughtfully. 

'^ Yes, Mother," put in Philip; ^' and who 
was the Lord of the Isles ! ' ' 

i i Tjiere are rather long and puzzling answers 
to those questions, but I'll try to make them 
clear to you," began Mrs. Pitt, in her good- 



6o JOHN AND BETTY'S 

natured way. ** First of all, you must under- 
stand that the court of the Scottish kings had 
long been held in the Highlands; it was Mal- 
colm Canmore who, in 1066, chose to live at 
Dunfermline, which decision made this more 
southern place of first importance in the coun- 
try. Malcolm had been much in England before 
he came to the throne, and consequently he 
spoke the Anglo-Saxon tongue as well as his 
native Gaelic. When the King married the 
English princess Margaret, Anglo-Saxon be- 
came the common language at court. Now, you 
see, it was natural that the Highlanders should 
suffer very much from these two changes. They 
no longer had the protection of the king's pres- 
ence. He was too far away to understand their 
needs, and the laws, often unjust and ex- 
pressed in unfamiliar language, could not be 
enforced." 

'* And in those days it took longer to send 
letters, didn't it. Mother? Of course, they had 
to go over mountains and across lakes; and 
there were no trains, no telegraphs, not even 
postmen." 

^^ Yes, dear, you are quite right. There were 
certainly none of those things. It is impossible 
for us to appreciate what very effectual barriers 
these valleys and mountains and lakes made. 
Not only were the Highlanders prevented from 
communicating with the Lowlanders, but each 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 6i 

clan found it very difficult to hold intercourse 
with neighboring clans. And thus you can 
readily see how a leader was needed for each 
clan, some one who could make wise laws and 
see that they were obeyed. The people simply 
allowed the mountains to separate them into lit- 
tle independent communities, and in each of 
these there arose a man of unusual courage 
who naturally became their chief. And so it 
was that each clan, or big family, had its own 
laws, its own customs, its own plaid or tartan 
of chosen colors, its own war cry, called a slo- 
gan. The loyalty of the clansmen to their chief 
is illustrated by many stories of the life of those 
days. ' ' 

*^ Tell us some of them,*' put in Philip, as 
Mrs. Pitt paused to tighten her veil. It was of 
pale blue chiffon, and it looked very pretty as 
the wind caught it and held it out straight. 

" Well, here is one instance. A certain 
James Menzies of Culdares had been taken as a 
prisoner to London, and there condemned for 
his share in the rebellions of 1715. He was par- 
doned, but, because of this dangerous experi- 
ence, was prevented from offering his services 
in the cause of Prince Charlie, thirty years 
later. Wishing in some way to show his sym- 
pathy with the Young Pretender, Menzies 
ordered a trusty member of his clan to take 
a fine horse as a present to the Prince. The 



62 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

clansman safely delivered the horse, but on his 
return journey he was suspected at Carlisle, 
taken prisoner, and sentenced to immediate ex- 
ecution unless he would confess from whom the 
horse had come. The fellow knew too well what 
serious trouble such a disclosure would bring 
upon his master, and he preferred to lose his 
life. When given one last chance to confess, 
John MacNaughton asked those about him if 
they really thought him such a villain as to be- 
tray his master • and, besides, said he, if he did 
do so, it would only mean that he would ever 
afterwards be scorned and shunned and hunted 
out of his glen by his fellow clansmen." 

''■ He was a dandy! " commended John. 

' ' Oh, you were going to tell us who the Lords 
of the Isles were, ' ' remarked Betty, remember- 
ing Philip's questions. 

'' They were chiefs of the clan Macdonald, 
who, from the almost mythical times, when the 
Norsemen were driven away, until the sixteenth 
century, ruled over these western islands. The 
story is that they were descended from a certain 
Somerlid, whose father, Godfrey, was King of 
Argyle. Somerlid, you must know, was the 
youngest, handsomest, and bravest of the King's 
four sons ; but, much to his father 's disappoint- 
ment, he was very lazy. He would fill his days 
with nothing but pleasure; while his dutiful 
brothers were fighting, conquering new terri- 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 63 

tory, or running away with island heiresses, 
Somerlid was only happily hunting and fishing. 
But all the while old King Godfrey suspected 
that there might be more in this idle son of his 
than had yet been seen ; and so it proved. About 
this time the men of the western isles found 
themselves without a chief, and at length de- 
cided to invite Somerlid to come and be their 
leader. A few chosen men were accordingly 
sent to Godfrey's court, only to be told that 
they must go out into the wilds to find young 
Somerlid. The fisherman ceased his labors just 
long enough to hear that the Islesmen desired to 
make him their chief; he was silent for a few 
moments, and then said: ^ Islesmen, there's a 
newly-run salmon in the black pool, yonder. If 
I catch him, I shall go with you as your chief; 
if I catch him not, I shall remain where I 
am. ' 

" Breathlessly the Islesmen watched Somer- 
lid 's movements, for they wanted very much to 
carry him back to Skye with them as their chief. 
Loud were their shouts when they saw the sil- 
very salmon safely landed upon the river bank, 
and with great rejoicing they put Somerlid 
aboard their largest galley, and sailed away 
with him to Skye. ' ' 

** And then was he a good chief? " asked 
Betty. 

* * From that day, ' ' said Mrs. Pitt, in her most 



64 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

impressive tones, ' ' Somerlid was the most war- 
like and energetic of chiefs. He burned and 
ravaged and fought; he conquered island after 
island, and married the daughter of the King 
of the Isle of Man, thus adding to his wide 
domains. He became a great chief and the first 
Lord of the Isles ; from him all were descended 
who bore that title, and claimed a right to these 
vast western territories. Partly because of 
their wild, mountainous, and remote pos- 
sessions, which were difficult of attack, and 
partly because of the great numbers of their 
brave and loyal clansmen, these chiefs were for 
centuries like veritable petty kings, who paid 
practically no heed to the King of Scotland's 
laws and acts, frequently taking sides against 
him in time of war. History is full of the con- 
tinual strife between the kings and these chiefs, 
which finally ended in the addition of Lord of 
the Isles to the various titles of Scotland's king. 
It will interest you to know, ' ' she added, * ' that 
that very name. Lord of the Isles, is even now 
among the titles of the little Prince of Wales, 
and that there is a special tartan which only 
he and the Macdonald chief have the right to 
wear. But, dearie me ! We must stop this talk 
and see the country we are going through. I 
believe we are nearing Melfort Pass." 

This celebrated mountain pass is a fine bit 
of Highland scenery, a deep, heavily-wooded 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 6s 

ravine, througli the bottom of which a dark 
stream tumbles along over the rocks, now and 
then breaking into foaming yellowish-white 
falls. The road is very narrow, and a danger- 
ous precipice is at one side, but the driver chat- 
ted carelessly with his passengers while his 
motor car shot around sharp curves in truly 
marvelous fashion. 

* ^ It would be a nice mess if we met a fellow 
coming the other way! " exclaimed John, just 
rescuing his camera as a particularly violent 
lurch almost sent it out into the road. The rest 
of the party said nothing, but they held fast 
to the nearest support. Mrs. Pitt was grateful 
when the pass was left behind, and they came to 
an open road. But still the car creaked and 
gasped up hill, swerved along the few level bits 
of road, and flew down hill in a way to make 
one's heart stand still. 

*^ Is there a school near here! '' Betty asked 
wonderingly, by and by. 

They had just passed a queer little group of 
school-children, trudging along the steep road. 
Most of them, boys and girls alike, were wear- 
ing scanty, ragged kilts, over which was some 
sort of tattered jacket, or outer garment. In 
spite of their rags, most of them carried square 
bags for their books, made of shiny leather, and 
they all shouted a greeting and stood in the 
middle of the road, with the evident intention 



66 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

of getting the very last possible view of the 
clumsy motor car. 

Once or twice the Oban car overtook lone 
men who leaned upon staves and fanned them- 
selves with their battered hats, as they paused 
a moment to shift the weight of a heavy pack. 
Sometimes whole families, their household 
goods beside them, sat resting by the road. 
Occasionally a woman was filling her pail at a 
wayside spring. There were very few huts, 
and even fewer tiny hamlets, through this dis- 
trict ; but when a thatched roof was seen, it actu- 
ally seemed to tone in with the exquisite, soft 
lavender tints of the mountains. There was 
one wonderful hedge of vivid yellow laburnums ; 
there were many stately larches ; and the motor 
car traveled but few miles of road from which a 
blue loch was not visible. On and on they sped 
through this beautiful Highland country, until 
late afternoon brought them into Oban. 

The following morning poor Betty was 
obliged to visit the dentist. However, she as- 
sured Mrs. Pitt, who went with her, that she 
^* didn't mind so very much, really, because 
there was such a lovely view of the bay from 
his window. She could see all the yachts, dec- 
orated with lots of flags in honor of somebody 
who was there. The dentist didn't know who." 

In the meantime the others had shopped. 
John wanted some postcards and a supply of 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 67 

films for Ms beloved camera ; Barbara desired a 
dainty Shetland shawl of clinging gray, and 
Philip was in search of a new electric battery 
for a little ^ ^ bug-light ' ' which John had given 
him. Everything was easily found at the 
town's excellent shops, that is, everything but 
the electric battery for Philip. Oban is not suf- 
ficiently up to date to supply that. 

In the afternoon they took one of the boats 
which make the short trip to Dunstaffnage 
Castle, where the famous Stone of Scone was 
kept for many years, but first they admired 
pretty Dunollie Castle, on a high rocky point 
overlooking Oban Bay. They had hardly no- 
ticed it when they had passed it in returning 
from Staffa and lona. Now its square keep 
and outer walls, solid green in their close cov- 
ering of ivy, charmed them. 

^* What's that queer, green post. Mother, 
there, on the road, beneath the castle 1 ' ' 

^' That, Barbara, is what is called the ^ Clach- 
na-can,' a great pillar made of pudding-stone 
and entirely covered with thick ivy, like the 
castle walls. ' Clach-na-can ' means Dog's Pil- 
lar, and Fingal, the giant, is supposed to have 
tied his dog. Bran, to this stake. The castle 
was a place of importance in the seventh cen- 
tury," she continued, ^^ but it probably was 
most famous in Bruce 's time, when it belonged 
to John of Lome, an enemy of the Bruce, who 



68 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

more than once defeated that King. The present 
owner of the castle, who lives close by, is Cap- 
tain Alexander John Macdougal, a descendant 
of the ancient Lords of Lome. The chief treas- 
ure of this family is the celebrated Brooch of 
Lome, which was snatched from the shoulder 
of the Bruce during a fierce combat. Scott has 
beautifully described the brooch in his poem, 
* The Lord of the Isles,' which you have prob- 
ably never read. He calls it 

"*. . . . The broach of burning gold, 
That clasps the Chieftain's mantle-fold, 
Wrought and chased with rare device, 
Studded fair with gems of price, '" 

** I suppose it was one of those great big 
pins that they used to fasten the plaid over the 
shoulder; IVe seen pictures of them.'' Mrs. 
Pitt was just nodding assent to Betty's remark 
when they came in sight of the dark walls of 
old Dunstaffnage Castle, once the home of Scot- 
tish kings. 

Tradition says that 

"Unless the fates be faithless grown, 
And prophet's voice be vain, 
Where'er is found this sacred stone, 
The Scottish race shall reign." 

This Stone of Scone is said to have been Jacob 's 
pillow. From the Holy Land it was carried to 
Spain, and later to Ireland. It then came to 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 69 

lona, where St. Colnmba perhaps also used it 
as a pillow. From lona it was brought for 
safe-keeping to Dunstaffnage, coronation place 
of the Scottish kings, and here it remained un- 
til Kenneth Macalpine took it to Scone. 

^ * And Edward I carried it to Westminster 
Abbey, where it's been ever since, and King 
George V has just been crowned on it,'' Betty 
said, with an air of finality. 

The castle is built on an enormous rock 
which forms part of its dark old walls; it is 
massive, but not a very beautiful ruin. The 
peninsula on which it stands is wooded and juts 
out into Loch Etive. 

^^ What's that funny little building?" in- 
quired Betty, pointing to a very commonplace 
structure inside the castle court. *^ It truly 
looks almost new." 

A woman who sold picture postcards close by 
answered that it had been built for a museum, 
but no further steps had been taken because of 
* * the lawsuit. ' ' 

^^ What lawsuit? " asked Mrs. Pitt promptly. 

* * Do ye no ken that the castle belongs to the 
Campbells of Dunstaffnage, and that the Duke 
of Argyll, who is a Campbell, too, is laying his 
claim to it? " 

/^ So the strife between the different clans 
and between various branches of the same clan 
still continues," said Mrs. Pitt thoughtfully. 



70 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

** It seems strange that times have changed so 
little, doesn't it I Only the other day I remem- 
ber to have read that a feud which has lasted 
for several hundred years had just been settled 
at a dinner in Glasgow. It was some question 
of chieftainship of the clan Macdonald. ' * 

Mrs. Pitt then took the young people to see 
the little Gothic chapel, now unroofed and fall- 
ing to decay, which was erected about the year 
1250, as was the present castle. It stands in a 
pine grove, at some distance, and its crumbling 
walls and broken tombs and monuments are 
overgrown with weeds or covered with mould, 
yet, 'tis said that some pieces of the ancient 
Scottish regalia were kept here in charge of an 
old servant until some time in the eighteenth 
century. 

^' Where are they now! " asked Philip. 

'' Dishonest servants stole and later sold 
them,'' remarked Mrs. Pitt grimly. 

They found places on one of the big tourist 
coaches from Oban, and, driving across the wet 
sands at low tide connecting Dunstalfnage with 
the mainland, they rolled through a gate which 
was opened by two little bright-eyed girls. Not 
far away, down the road, is Connel Ferry, at the 
outlet of Loch Etive. 

'^ Falls of Lora! " sang out their driver. 
^* Falls of Lora ! " and every one began to clam- 
ber down. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 71 

"• What's that? '' asked Betty curiously. 

^' A very famous waterfall about which that 
same poet Ossian wrote," answered Mrs. Pitt 
patiently. 

But this was too much for John, who had done 
all the sightseeing he could agreeably endure in 
one day. 

^* The fellow who talked about the apples of 
immortal youth? '' demanded he with much 
scorn. *^ Well, I wouldn't give much for him, 
anyhow ! Looks to me like a wide river rolling 
over a few little stones ! Falls of Lora ! Come 
on back to the coach ! ' ' 

Obediently they all followed John, climbed to 
their places, and calmly awaited the departure 
for Oban. 



CHAPTER FOUR 

THE MISTY ISLE OP SKYE 

*^ Now we're going to catch it! It's raining 
like fun, and the fog's all down over the moun- 
tains! I tell you what, it's going to be rough 
before we get to Portree! " 

Mrs. Pitt and the two girls were writing 
postcards in the cabin when John came in from 
the upper deck, his wet ^* slicker " steaming, 
to give them the above discouraging news. 

Betty promptly put down her pen and went 
to the porthole to see how much John's report 
was exaggerated. 

** It's the worst night we've had on our whole 
trip so far ! ' ' she announced in despairing 
tones. ** And the Captain says we're about two 
hours late ! Botheration ! ' ' 

** Well," advised Mrs. Pitt sagely, *' we may 
as well finish our writing. We've plenty of 
time. ' ' 

^ ' Seems like two years since we were at Oban 
this morning! " muttered Barbara, the usually 
serene and unruffled, slowly sticking a half- 
penny stamp on each of her picture cards. 

72 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 73 

Having left Oban at seven o 'clock on the most 
perfect of mornings, they had sailed for hours, 
quite content to be dodging in and out between 
the mainland and the innumerable islands, 
large and small. The smooth sea had been 
a lovely melting blue, sometimes changing to 
sapphire and opal where it ran far inland among 
the mountains; and as for those mountains, 
they were indescribably beautiful. Most of 
them were rugged and sharp-peaked, while 
others sloped gently down to the water's edge; 
but all were alike wrapped in that veil which 
gives them the look of velvet, shading in tone 
from soft brown to softer heliotrope. Stretch- 
ing far, far away in the distance, they looked 
** like clouds that somebody has caught and 
held there," as Betty expressed it. 

Soon after passing pretty Dunollie Castle, 
they had steamed once again into Tobermory 
Bay, where the Duke of Argyll has some divers 
at work searching for sunken treasure, which 
he believes may have been there since the wreck 
of one of the great vessels of the Spanish 
Armada. A little later they had rounded Ard- 
namurchan Point, the most western bit of Scot- 
land's mainland; then they sighted Eigg, on 
which island there is a cave into which the 
revengeful McLeods once drove many Mac- 
donalds, and, building a fire at the cave 's mouth, 
conveniently suffocated their troublesome ene- 



74 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

mies. Now, at five o'clock on this same day 
wMch had so completely changed to one of 
threatening storm, they were looking at Castle 
Moil, a jagged black point piercing the gray 
mist. 

^' It is said to have been inhabited by a Dan- 
ish princess, called ^ Saucy Mary,' " the guide- 
book told them. ^^ She stretched a great chain 
across the sound and allowed no vessel to pass 
without paying toll." 

They finally landed at Portree, on the island 
of Skye, about seven o'clock that evening, in a 
characteristic downpour. It was perfectly easy 
to see that the natives were entirely at home 
in such weather. On the little wharf was a 
considerable crowd, visiting fishermen and 
hunters, townspeople giving friends a hearty 
though necessarily a damp welcome, and a large 
proportion of Portree's inhabitants assembled 
for enjoyment of the one exciting happening 
of the day. Dodging the drenched loiterers, 
Mrs. Pitt and the others, hurrying out into the 
mud and rain, climbed a steep, slippery path 
which led to the Eoyal Hotel, at the top of the 
bluff. 

'^ You needn't have worried about our not 
getting any rooms. Mother," remarked Bar- 
bara; ^' only one lady and gentleman are com- 
ing up from the boat, and I don't believe there 
are many staying here for the week-end. ' ' 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 75 

Sure enougli, only two English gentlemen, off 
on a tramping trip, and the French couple who 
had arrived with them on the Oban boat, assem- 
bled for dinner. Afterwards Betty stood long 
at the window of the cold, dingy drawing-room, 
looking out at the deserted village street and 
the gray, storm-swept bay below. 

"" I never felt so far away from things in all 
my life," said she, and Barbara was not sure 
there were not one or two tears in her eyes. 

However, the room was so cold and the whole 
party so very sleepy after the long day's sail, 
that going-to-bed candles were soon lighted. 

'^ Do you think it will be fine to-morrow? '' 
inquired Mrs. Pitt of the landlady, as she held 
her match. 

" I doubt it'll no be verra fine in the morn- 
ing,'' was the not too cheerful answer, the good 
woman shaking her head sadly as she gave it. 

But at breakfast time the sun actually peeped 
out from behind the mist, and it seemed as 
though their hostess had been mistaken. When 
she saw them come down clad in raincoats and 
rubbers, and carrying umbrellas, " in case it 
should shower," she smiled and said, '^ Ay, 
you'll maybe get a bit o' a walk." 

They did. Philip and John were in their ele- 
ment, of course, and Mrs. Pitt and the girls held 
their skirts high and tramped along, first on 
one side and then on the other side of the muddy 



76 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

road, pretending to be enjoying themselves 
hugely. Although the metropolis of Skye, pos- 
sessing four hotels, a post office, branches of 
certain banks, several small shops, and a jail, 
Portree is an uninteresting enough little place 
and was quite desolate on this particular Sun- 
day morning. They soon left it behind. After 
several wrong turns had led them only into 
unpleasant barnyards with no outlet, they did 
at length discover a road which ran out to the 
country, to the moorland. 

'* How far it stretches,'' exclaimed Betty; 
^^ and what funny little bumps it has on it ! " 

** Yes, these Skye moors always have just 
such bumps or hillocks," Mrs. Pitt replied. 
*^ Do you see the mountains, there in the dis- 
tance! They're almost covered with the heavy 
mist, though, and I'm afraid it's coming 
nearer. ' ' 

By the time they reached a huddled group of 
three or four huts, with roofs of blackened 
thatch through which the peat smoke somehow 
found its way in the absence of chimneys, a 
typical Scotch mist was driving in their faces. 

* * I want to see the inside of this house, ' ' an- 
nounced Betty, starting toward the one which 
stood nearest the road. ** Do you think they'd 
let me in? " 

A woman appeared at the door just then, and 
Betty asked her some question by way of begin- 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 77 

ning a conversation, but the woman was pre- 
paring for the trip into Portree to chnrch, she 
said, and her answer was very short. 

Betty was quite taken aback. ^* I hope 
they're not all as cross as that,'' she said; ^^ I 
wanted to see how they live. My, what a big 
pile of peat they have, up behind their house ! ' ' 

*^ Oh," cried John, who had been exploring, 
* * at the next house they have two ! They mean 
to keep warm. Where do they get the peat, and 
what is it, anyhow? " 

** Another name for it is * the turf,' " an- 
swered Mrs. Pitt, as they turned back towards 
the town; *^ it is cut from the bogs out on the 
moors and hillsides. I can show you plenty of 
peat-bogs, if this rain only stops for us. You'll 
see how they cut it and then how they stack it up 
afterwards. It takes a long time to dry and to 
be right for burning. This summer's peat peo- 
ple will not use until next year. Oh, children, 
do see those puppies ! ' ' 

A long halt had then and there to be made, in 
spite of the rain, to admire the litter of little 
white puppies. These are called Skye dogs and 
are seen everywhere throughout the Highlands. 

** But they aren't like Skye terriers," John 
objected, *^ those with hair all over their eyes. 
These are long and they have short legs like 
dachshunds, but their heads are different. 
They're like little pigs' heads, I think. Don't 



78 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

they have Skye terriers on the Isle of Skye, I 
should like to know? " 

'* Oh," said his sister, ^^ it's probably like 
English Breakfast Tea, which they've never 
heard of in England." 

Mrs. Pitt, wishing to hear a service in Gaelic 
at one of Portree's churches, stopped there, 
while the others went back to the hotel for 
luncheon. It was impossible to walk any more 
as the rain was steadily and heavily falling; 
and so it continued to fall throughout the rest 
of that Sunday and all the following day. 

They tried to lie in bed on Monday morning 
and do that wholly delightful thing, sleep late, 
but they found their eyes to be provokingly 
wide open by eight o 'clock. By early afternoon 
they had written all the letters they could, 
drummed upon the ancient piano, and read all 
the books which their luggage contained. Hear- 
ing that Portree boasted a library, Mrs. Pitt 
sent the two boys to see what it offered. The 
door was locked, the windows boarded, and a 
man informed John that the library was closed 
for the season, and was private at all times. 
For want of anything better to do, John was 
actually persuaded to join them at afternoon 
tea, an unheardrof concession on his part. 

Afterwards, Philip made an important dis- 
covery during a talk with the solemn head- 
waiter. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 79 

*^ I say! '' he exclaimed, bursting into the 
room; ^' Prince Charlie came to Skye, and 
there's a room in this very hotel where he 
slept! '' 

Off they all trooped to see it, and Mrs. Pitt 
learned from a book she had been studying 
that there also the Prince had said farewell to 
Flora Macdonald, a brave girl of Skye, who 
had several times helped him to escape dan- 
gers and had hidden him in a great cave, keep- 
ing guard at its mouth. It is related that the 
Prince could find no words to thank her, except 
these, just as he stepped into his boat: " For 
all that has passed, Madam, I hope we shall 
meet yet at St. James's." 

^* Did he mean St. James's Palace in London, 
where they hold the Court! " asked Betty. 
a Prince Charlie was trying to be king, wasn't 
he! Some people thought he ought to be king 
instead of King William who came over from 
Holland." 

Just then Barbara remembered how she had 
once read that the Prince had had to dress 
in a woman's clothes and pretend to be 
Flora Macdonald 's maid. ^^ They called him 
' Betty somebody-or-other, ' " said she, with 
a laugh. 

Even the subject of the unfortunate Prince 
and Flora Macdonald was at length exhausted, 
and then there seemed nothing for it but to 



8o JOHN AND BETTY'S 

hope and plan for the morrow. And this time 
they were not to be disappointed. 

^* I have seen it finer, — yes, even in Skye,'' 
remarked Mrs. Pitt, as she critically viewed 
the heavens before breakfast, * * but I think we 
may safely start ont. Philip, will you order the 
motor! Be sure to make the landlady under- 
stand that we want to go to Dunvegan by way 
of Sligachan.'' 

** Fancy! Motoring in Skye! " 

" But why not, Barbara? It's quicker and 
easier than driving, and the cost is no greater. 
This hotel has several motors, I am told.'' 

So they were off about ten o'clock, following 
for a time the same road they had tramped 
two days before. But, after crossing the little 
bridge near the new brick schoolhouse, they 
turned towards the south and sped on and on 
across the wild moorland. 

The road was narrow and rough, now stretch- 
ing over level bits of country, level except for 
the ever-present hillocks; now zigzagging its 
way to dizzy heights, on a mountain-side ; now 
dipping suddenly and crossing a rushing 
stream, only to begin another steep climb. 
Over the moors, just beginning to be tinged 
with the pinkish-purple of the bell heather, the 
sheep scampered in terror at sound of the 
motor car. All the ten miles to Sligachan, 
there were no houses, no people, no trees. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 8i 

Some one has called Skye ^ ' a land of little sun 
and no shade.'' 

Slowly the mountains grew steeper, sharper, 
sterner until Sligachan was reached, a famous 
spot in the midst of the giant red ^' Coolin 
Hills. ' ' They whirled past the one hotel and the 
chauffeur rushed for another hill. The Coolins 
proper were over there, he said, taking one hand 
from the steering-wheel and pointing; they 
could not see them that day, because of the 
mist. The great clouds moved rapidly, now 
revealing an undreamed-of jagged peak here, 
now entirely covering another which had just 
been visible there. Now and then they found 
themselves whirling along through one of these 
clouds of mist, so thick as almost to cut off all 
view; the next moment the mist had vanished 
and a warm ray of sunlight had quickly dried 
them off. 

* * Barbara, please untie my veil for me ; I 
must wipe off my glasses "; and Barbara 
obeyed, only to find that the veil had stuck fast 
to some flowers on her mother's hat, much of 
their color coming off with it. 

** Here's another loch! " cried Philip. 
** Skye seems to be all lochs and mountains, 
and moors with hillocks on them ! ' ' 

** That's very nearly true, Philip," said Mrs. 
Pitt; ^^ and it's not strange that we see lochs 
everywhere when we read that, although the 



82 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

island is fifty miles long and from seven to 
twenty-five broad, there is no spot in it which 
is more than four miles from the sea or one of 
its long arms.'' 

Then they came to Struan, a village with 
hnts straggling along both sides of a long, nar- 
row loch. Conditions have been much improved 
for the peasants of Skye, and many of their huts 
now have good chimneys and roofs of slate or of 
galvanized iron painted black; but occasionally 
one still sees a miserable hut with thatched roof 
and no chimney, so low and black that, coming 
upon it suddenly around a corner, one might 
almost mistake it for a part of the bog land 
upon which it stands. 

^ ' See that woman ! ' ' cried John suddenly. 
** What's she got on her back? " 

'' That's a creel, a kind of basket in which 
she carries home her peat. Do you see how she 
sets the bottom of the creel on that stone wall 
while she rests a moment! She never wastes 
her time, you notice; she is always knitting a 
stocking. ' ' 

At the end of the loch the road crossed a 
bridge; then it turned and followed the oppo- 
site shore. They passed more huts from which 
children, dressed in the customary scanty kilt, 
ran out to see the motor car. 

'^ They don't seem to be at all surprised 
to see us," commented Betty. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 83 

At the top of a long hill they came upon 
some men cutting peat from a bog, and the 
chauffeur obligingly stopped so that they might 
watch the process. A long, deep ditch was cut 
across the moorland, and from the sides of it a 
man was slicing off oblong pieces of the moist 
black earth. 

^^ That shovel of his is a dandy! " cried John 
approvingly; ^' it's long and narrow, and it 
makes the pieces just the right size. My, it 
doesn't take him a jiffy to do it! It looks like a 
cinch! I'd like to try it." 

a There's another man who is standing the 
pieces of peat up on end, in little groups. I 
guess that's how he leaves them to dry, isn't 
it, Mrs. Pitt? Oh, John, there's a pony carry- 
ing two panniers full of peat! Do you see 
him? " 

But they could not spend too long a time in 
watching this fascinating peat-cutting. The car 
started up again and by early afternoon brought 
them to the inn at Dunvegan, on the opposite 
side of the island from Portree. 



CHAPTEE FIVE 

SKYE LEGENDS AND CASTLES 

In spite of himself Jolm had begun to feel an 
interest in the poet, Ossian, *^ that fellow who 
invented the ^ apples of immortal youth ' and 
the stupid Falls of Lora." The landlord was 
telling them stories in front of the drawing- 
room peat fire, at the Dunvegan inn. The 
kindly man, with his gray hair and bent shoul- 
ders, stared into the fire as he talked, and when- 
ever he came to a specially critical point in 
one of his tales, he would lean forward and 
nervously prod the slow-burning peats with his 
foot. 

** Ye '11 be speirin' a story of me, will ye? " 
he had said. ^^ Weel, then, I maun gie ye some 
guid tales that ye '11 no be hearin' in mony 
sheilings o' Skye i' these times. There's no a 
doot but that our Skye fowk hae forgotten all 
the guid old tales o' Ossian and Fingal, his 
fayther, and a' the guid people. It is a great 
peety! Ye '11 maybe find a wheen old fowk who 
yet ken aboot the guid people who were seen 
yonder at the Fairy Brig; but the young fowk 

84 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 85 

ken naething but the Broadford Fair and sae 
muckle learning frae the Glasgy and Inverness 
papers. But Archie here/' slapping his own 
lean knee as he spoke, ^^ Archie here, he kens 
what's i' the papers and he kens the old tales, 
too. Ou ay, he kens them fine ! ' ' 

^^ Well, then, give us a few,'' said John, by 
way of encouraging him to proceed. 

And so, first of all, they heard how there was 
an old ruin in Skye, called Dunscaich Castle, 
and how it had been built long ages ago in the 
days of Fingal, the giant, by a great chief, 
named CuchuUin, for whom the famous 
Cuchullin or Coolin hills have been called. 
Cuchullin and his mighty giants had built the 
castle in a single night, and there were great 
feasts held there, at every one of which the min- 
strel Ossian sang the praises of Cuchullin and 
his Fingalians, and of their brave and terrible 
deeds. But a truly dreadful thing befell Os- 
sian, so the story relates. One day, as he was 
wandering over the hills, he suddenly heard the 
most beautiful music which seemed to come 
from the direction of a pleasant green knoll 
close by. Sitting down to listen, he was lulled 
to sleep by the fairy strains, for the music was 
that of the ^^ good people." No sooner had Os- 
sian so fallen to sleep than the green knoU 
opened wide and out poured troops of fairies, 
who allowed him to go with them to their under- 



86 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

world and to join in their merry-making. But, 
after a while the music again sounded, once more 
Ossian slept on the hillside, and when he awoke, 
he was an old, gray-bearded man. He had been 
asleep for a hundred years, as mortals count 
time. After this Ossian was very sad. During 
the years he had been absent, the world had 
entirely changed; the giant Fingalians had dis- 
appeared, and the dwarfs called men inhabited 
Skye. Feeling very lonesome, Ossian at length 
married a shepherd's daughter, and in due 
time a child was born to them. Years went 
by and Ossian 's daughter was herself married 
to Peter, who spent all his days in hunting. 
Ossian lived with his daughter and Peter, and 
every evening he recited to them marvelous 
tales of his youth, painting glowing pictures of 
the Isle of Skye in the time of the Fingalians. 
And all these tales Peter wrote down in a big 
book. 

Upon one occasion Peter killed a huge stag 
and when he carried it home upon his shoulders, 
he said to his aged father-in-law, '' In the 
Fingalian days you sing about, killed you ever a 
stag so large as this one? " 

"When the stag had been dressed and eaten, 
Ossian took up one of its bones and answered 
with much disdain, ^' This bone, big as you 
think it, could be dropped into the hollow of 
a Fingalian blackbird's leg." 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 87 

^^Hm!'' grunted John; ^^ I'll bet Peter 
wouldn't swallow that! '' 

Peter was mneh annoyed by the old man's 
boast, so much so that he snatched up the large 
volume containing the songs of other days, and 
it would have been burned in the fire had not 
Ossian's daughter rescued it just in time. Os- 
sian felt such disgust at the sad lack of appre- 
ciation shown by these little people who now 
possessed the earth that when he went to his 
bed he prayed earnestly to his pagan gods that 
they might allow his Fingalian stags and 
hounds and blackbirds to return to earth for 
only one hour, one hour in which to convince 
the unbelieving Peter. 

Upon waking the next morning he felt a 
weight upon his breast ; it proved to be the 
paw of his own hound, who seemed overjoyed 
when Ossian called him by name. The old man 
arose, found his little grandson, and, with the 
dog, they went out upon the hillside. Then 
Ossian said to the child, '^ Put your fingers in 
your ears, little one, else I will make you deaf 
for life, ' ' and he whistled more loudly than any 
mortal can whistle. 

Soon there appeared in the distance a herd of 
Fingalian deer, so huge that the child was 
frightened. They passed, and Ossian spoke to 
his dog, which immediately overtook the herd 
and caught seven of their number. These his 



88 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

master skinned and dressed, and when tbey were 
ready for cooking, lie waded into the center of 
the loch, and, reaching down his hand, brought 
up his great Fingalian kettle, which had not 
been used for more than a century. Then was 
Ossian very, very happy; for, since the fairies 
had put him to sleep, long years ago, he had 
never once had enough to eat. So big and so 
empty had been his stomach that he had formed 
the habit of gathering up its too numerous folds 
with nine splints. One by one he removed these 
at the great feast which now took place, and 
at last his appetite was satisfied. 

Having collected all the bones and burned 
them, Ossian asked his grandson to go up to 
the knoll and tell him if he saw anything. ** A 
great bird is flying hither, ' ' answered the child ; 
and a big Fingalian blackbird flew to Ossian 's 
side. He at once grasped and killed it, and car- 
ried it home to his son-in-law's turf hut. After 
supper, Ossian was able to call for the thigh- 
bone of Peter's stag and place it in the hollow 
of the giant blackbird's leg. Thus did he 
triumph in the eyes of mortals and prove the 
truth of his Fingalian boasts. And it was the 
very same night that Ossian died. 

The landlord told them many other strange 
things. He told them how the fairies of Skye 
are supposed to keep herds of cattle as well as 
of deer; how these cattle are red and speckled 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 89 

and can swim across the sea ; and liow there are 
only ten places in the whole island where they 
will graze, one of them being a certain field near 
Portree. He told them that the fairies very 
seldom have horses, but that sometimes they 
have been known to take horses belonging to 
mortals out of their stables and ride them across 
the country at top-speed, sitting facing their 
tails. He told them that when you hear a horse 
neigh at night, you may know that an elf has 
been riding him too hard. They learned that 
fairy dogs are green, a lighter shade toward 
their feet, and that sometimes their tails are 
long and braided, and then again they are coiled 
upon their backs. Fingal's dog. Bran, was of 
fairy breed, it seems; a queer little verse says 
that, 

**Bran had yellow feet, 

Its two sides black and belly white; 
Green was the back of the hunting hound, 
Its two pointed ears blood-red." 

Besides his other virtues. Bran wore a poison- 
ous shoe which killed whatever it struck; and 
when he traveled at full speed (he always went 
^^ a glen at a step, a hill at a leap, and thirty- 
two miles at a running leap! ") he looked like 
three dogs. Earthly dogs greatly dislike the 
fairies and always will chase them, but they in- 



90 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

variably return with no hair left on their bodies 
except their ears, and very soon after they 
die. 

He told them that fairies never really steal 
anything, only the substance of it. For instance, 
there was always great fear that the fairies 
would come to steal a little baby; if they did 
succeed in carrying it off, in its place they 
would leave a queer, dwarfed old man who had 
an alarmingly large appetite. If the fairies 
stole cattle or food, it was the same way; they 
left something in its place, something which 
would always prove worthless when tested, al- 
though the change might not be noticed at once. 
If a mortal went to visit the fairies in their 
green knolls or under-world, he stuck his knife 
into the ground near the entrance to the fairy 
country; this enabled him to make his escape 
when he desired. Iron was the greatest protec- 
tion against fairies, but their host told them 
that many consider oatmeal to be as effectual 
for this purpose. If a boy is going any dis- 
tance after dark, his mother sometimes fills his 
pockets with oatmeal, which prevents him from 
seeing any ** guid people. '^ It is unlucky for 
mortals to wear green because it is the favorite 
color of the fairies. At the battle of Killie- 
crankie, Viscount Dundee wore green and to 
this fact was attributed his defeat. Even to-day 
his descendants do not like the color. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 91 

'* Well, the Irish don't believe that! " com- 
mented John. 

It is clear that the people of the Scottish 
Highlands and Islands are very superstitious. 
It is said that various strange animals are still 
feared by the people of certain remote districts. 
The landlord told of a water-horse which lives 
in the lochs although it sometimes feeds in the 
fields with normal horses, and has been known 
to take human shape. If a man leaps upon its 
back, the beast will surely jump from a clitf 
to devour its prey at the bottom of the loch. 
In some lochs of Skye it is said there are still 
water-bulls, and a certain loch on the mainland 
has a mysterious bogie. There is a phantom 
dog at a place called Uist, in Skye; he has un- 
earthly eyes which glitter, and a fearful bark, 
and he guards the burying ground. No Skye- 
man desires to pass that way after dark ! 

The people of one part of Skye believe that 
if they light fires on a certain headland at the 
beginning of winter, it will bring them in her- 
rings a-plenty. Many persons still hold it to 
be undesirable, when starting upon a journey, 
to meet certain people. Some think women 
more unlucky, and some men. That he might 
not encounter any '^ bad people," one old 
farmer, or crofter, was accustomed to send out 
a member of his own family to be the first to 
meet him. 



92 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

An amusing story was told of a Skye farmer 
and liis wife, who went to bed one evening, 
leaving a pot of paint on the floor; during the 
night their pig entered and fell into the pot. 
Getting up when she heard the noise, the woman 
saw the pig's green snout and declared to her 
husband that it was the devil himself. The 
farmer accordingly sprang up and held down 
the lid of the pot until the struggles within 
ceased. He was encouraged by his wife, who 
all the while was assuring him, '^ Many a per- 
son you will confer a favor on this night, 
Murdoch ; ' ' but when they discovered their mis- 
take, there was little rejoicing. The poor couple 
had lost their paint and their pig as well. 

And so, laughing at these strange stories and 
superstitions, even while they at the same time 
felt just a bit puzzled by them, the young people 
finally listened to Mrs. Pitt's pleadings that 
they should '' come away to bed." 

The next morning, having walked from the 
inn, along the road and through a bit of wood- 
land, they stood at length before fine old Dun- 
vegan Castle, home of the chief of the McLeod 
clan for more than seven hundred years. 

Some say that Dunvegan is the oldest in- 
habited building in the country, and certain it is 
that, though the place has been much modern- 
ized, the present chief still lives in a castle 
including an old keep which came into the fam- 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 93 

ily's possession when Leod, son of the King of 
Man, married the daughter of McCrailt Ar- 
muinn of Dunvegan. 

The castle perches high npon a ledge of rock 
which is almost an island, the waves of the loch 
washing it on three sides. The main door is 
approached by a wide path crossing the little 
ravine, doubtless spanned by a drawbridge in 
olden days. Upon ringing, Mrs. Pitt found 
that the family were away, as indeed they usu- 
ally are, but the servant was most civil and con- 
sented to show the party about. 

They entered first a square hall with wooden 
galleries above, from one of which was hung 
the McLeod banner of white with the family 
legend and arms in crimson embroideries. Up- 
stairs they were taken through many apart- 
ments, the floors of which were quite bare, and 
the furniture grouped in the center and covered 
with heavy awnings; most of the family por- 
traits were in their places, however, and might 
have afforded many an interesting tale had the 
chieftain been present to identify his ancestors. 
The great drawing-room has a bloody history. 

** In the middle of the sixteenth century," 
Mrs. Pitt was saying, '^ Black Ian, a usurping 
chief, feared that the Campbells, who, he knew, 
had landed in Skye, would come to turn him 
out of the castle. Ian spoke of discussing terms, 
and so invited eleven Campbells to a banquet 



94 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

in this very drawing-room. Each Campbell was 
carefully seated between two McLeods. When 
the feast was at its height, a signal was given, 
and each McLeod arose and promptly killed 
a Campbell." 

** But Where's the Fairy Tower IVe heard 
about? " said Barbara. The servant assured 
her that they were soon to see it. 

Up the narrow spiral stair in the ancient 
keep they climbed until they came into a cham- 
ber with enormously thick walls and windows 
commanding a glorious view of blue loch and 
bold Skye headland. Legend has it that each 
future bride of a McLeod had to pass one night 
alone in this room so that the fairies might 
have an opportunity to inspect her. 

'' Sir Walter Scott slept here once, you 
know,'' reminded Mrs. Pitt; ^^ and Dr. John- 
son before him. Johnson and Boswell had 
traveled far through these wild islands of the 
Hebrides, — they were very wild in those days; 
and the luxury-loving Doctor was much de- 
lighted to be invited to Dunvegan, where the 
young laird of the day entertained him. What 
with the genial host and the ladies of his house- 
hold, the good food and bed, Dr. Johnson would 
have been perfectly content had he not caught a 
bad cold, * having strangely slept without a 
night-cap.' " 

Descending the stair, they passed the en- 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 95 

trances of dark dungeons, which seem to have 
been built very close to where were once the 
family's living apartments. 

" It must have been dreadful to go so near 
the poor prisoners whenever you went up- and 
downstairs," said Betty. 

But, of course, the most interesting things at 
Dunvegan are the Fairy Flag, Rory Mor's 
Drinking-horn, and the celebrated Dunvegan 
Cup. 

The flag is now too frail to be shown to visi- 
tors; it is said to be a square of rich yellow 
silk, stitched with gold crosses and having sev- 
eral red spots. Two strange stories account for 
its existence. 

One tale has it that a certain McLeod chief 
married a fairy who was allowed to stay on 
earth but twenty years. It was near the Fairy 
Bridge, three miles from Dunvegan, that she 
flew away from her husband's reach; and, as 
she went, dropped the flag which she had been 
accustomed to wear as part of her dress. The 
other tale relates that during the festivities 
held after the birth of a McLeod heir, the nurse 
left the baby without sufficient covering; but 
when she went back to her charge, she found 
him wrapped in the Fairy Flag. Thus she 
picked him up, and as she showed him to some 
of the clansmen, fairy voices were heard sing- 
ing of the magic powers of the flag and of how 



96 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

the mere waving of it three times would save 
the clan in time of need. 

^' And has it saved them I " demanded John 
eagerly. 

^' Yes; the flag has been waved twice. The 
first time the McLeods were on the point of 
suffering a terrible defeat from an enemy who 
had surprised them; but the flag made the Mc- 
Leod forces appear many times their real size 
and the enemy fled. The second time the flag 
stopped a plague that had attacked the cattle 
on the island.'' 

'^ I suppose they wouldn't like to wave it a 
third time, even if they needed it very much," 
suggested Betty, ^ ' because then the fairy would 
come and take it away, wouldn't she I " 

They saw the great drinking-horn, tipped 
with silver, which belonged to Sir Eory Mor, a 
McLeod chief of the sixteenth century. The 
rule is that each chief, upon coming of age, must 
fill this horn to the brim and drain it at one 
draught. 

" It doesn't look very big inside," said John, 
leaning over to examine it better ; but the serv- 
ant explained that most of it has now been filled 
up and it is consequently only a very moderate 
drink which modern chiefs must take. Origi- 
nally the cup would probably have held two or 
three bottles of wine. 

The Dunvegan Cup is made of oak, stands 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 97 

on four short silver legs, and is embossed with 
silver in which were once set precious stones of 
which only a few bits of coral remain. It is 
now considered a most interesting and valu- 
able specimen, having been made in the year 
1493. 

^ ^ Columbus ! ' ' cried John ; * * just the year 
after we were discovered! " 

The cup has a fairy history, too. In the days 
of the third McLeod chief, a cattle-herder, 
named Lurran Casinreach, or '^ the swift- 
footed," was present at a strange fairy feast. 
The fairies had done him harm; as a means of 
revenge, Lurran stole their cup as it was being 
passed around the table, and so it came into 
possession of the lairds of Dunvegan Castle. 

As they crossed the Fairy Bridge on their 
return motor car trip to Portree the following 
day, they recalled the story of McLeod 's fairy 
wife and her flag. 

^^ I never expected to feel so well acquainted 
with fairies ! ' ' declared Betty. 

A few days later the boat from Oban carried 
the party out of the pretty, sheltered harbor of 
Portree, and north to Gairloch, on the main- 
land. With a large, luxurious hotel, the place 
has now become quite a tourist resort. 

But even better than Gairloch they liked Loch 
■Maree, to which a big motor car whirled them 
through a wonderful wilderness of hills covered 



98 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

with bell-lieather and roadsides edged with lav- 
ender thyme; of remarkably varied and per- 
fect trees and of waterfalls and rushing tor- 
rents, which, though clear, have a suggestion of 
the color of the peat. 

After lunching at a long table, where most 
of the chairs were unoccupied, John and Philip 
took the others for a row on the lake. The 
shadows on bold Ben Slioch with its great 
crevices, and on the other mountains, were dark, 
dark blue that afternoon, without a hint of the 
heliotrope of which they had seen so much in 
the Highlands. Now and then threatening 
clouds piled up near one of the peaks, but the 
sun always succeeded in chasing them away. 

They rowed very close to the famous Eileen 
Maree, where once was a monastery dedicated 
to the Virgin Mary; there was also a sacred 
well which our poet, Whittier, described as a 
spot to which insane people were brought to 
bathe their brows and be cured by its waters. 

a There's an old, old legend, too, which is 
connected with the island," said Mrs. Pitt. *^ I 
think you will like to hear it. This little isle 
had been appointed by a young Norwegian 
prince as the place of meeting with his bride. 
He was kept waiting a long time in much 
anxiety, however, for the lady was the daughter 
of an Irish king, and her boat was delayed by 
contrary winds. At last they told the prince 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 99 

that a boat had been sighted, and he sent a mes- 
senger to the end of the lake with orders to 
hoist a white flag if the lady was safe, and a 
black flag if she had been lost. The lady was 
there, and as beautiful as ever, but she chose 
to fly the black flag to test her lover's faith, 
to see how he would feel at news of her death. 
Alas! when she arrived joyfully to contradict 
the bad report, she found that the prince had 
taken his life. There are two stones on the 
island which, they say, mark the graves of the 
unlucky pair." 

That evening the dining-room was crowded 
with gentlemen and ladies who had been off fish- 
ing all day; this, they learned, explained the 
deserted lunch-table. When they finished din- 
ner, they found the floor of the little hall almost 
covered with trays of fish, and an old gillie, his 
face flushed with pride, was still bearing in 
more. They were mostly sea-trout, he told 
them, and they came up the river into the fresh 
waters of Loch Maree. 

^* I think I'll just stay behind a day or two, 
if you don't mind, Mrs. Pitt, and have a little 
fishing myself." Such was John's decision 
that evening, but the next morning he thought 
better of it, and went on with the others to 
Inverness. 



CHAPTER SIX 

INVEBNESS AND CAWDOR CASTLE 

** So you Ve two Americans with you to-day,'' 
the factor (or overseer )of the Cawdor Castle 
estate was saying to Mrs. Pitt, as he read- 
justed the blush rosebud in his buttonhole. 
*V"We are not admitting the public to the castle; 
but you 're quite sure they are from the States 1 
Well, I'll do what I can; I promise you that." 

So saying, he stepped into his smart trap, 
which had been awaiting him at the door, and 
was driven away in the direction of the castle, 
where there were certain repairs requiring his 
oversight in progress. It had been arranged 
that Mrs. Pitt and her party should follow him 
about half an hour later. 

In the meantime they found things to inter- 
est them in Nairn, a town about fifteen miles 
from Inverness. It is a place of strange con- 
trasts, for, in spite of its being a popular sea- 
side resort, it has kept its quaint old-world ap- 
pearance. Motor cars, driven by gay summer 
girls, honked up and down its narrow main 
street, and fashionably dressed visitors jostled 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT loi 

the shoulders of stout fishwives in starched caps 
and aprons, with creels of fish on their backs. 
They even met a man who was striding down the 
middle of the street, ringing a huge bell and, in a 
Fingalian voice, announcing a ^' sale of pota- 
toes in the ground " which would take place at 
a neighboring farm at seven-forty-five that 
evening. 

At the appointed time they set out in an open 
carriage, and, after a pleasant six-mile drive, 
arrived at the castle gate. 

^^ Did you ever see such an adorable little 
lodge! " cried Betty, catching sight of a low 
graystone cottage, over which climbed a won- 
derful scarlet vine. 

Just then the cheery Scotch caretaker ap- 
peared to beckon them within, for it was 
showering a bit out of a blue sky, as it has a 
delightful fashion of doing in the British Isles. 
Such summer showers never do any harm and 
are often the means of leading to agreeable and 
unexpected experiences, or of showing one 
homelike interiors, as was the case on this July 
day when John and Betty visited Cawdor 
Castle. 

In the neat but crowded little room, and over 
the steaming cups of tea and flat, beautifully 
baked and jam-spread pancakes which the 
woman insisted they should accept, she told them 
what she called the flame-colored vine, of which 



I02 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

she was very proud. Unfortunately its name is so 
long and difficult that neither Mrs. Pitt nor any 
of the others could recall it afterwards; but 
they always remembered the pride with which 
they were assured that it is ^^ quite Scotch and 
willna grow south o' the Tweed." 

When, after a little, the rain ceased and they 
bade farewell to the woman at the lodge, walk- 
ing through the ancient gate into the castle 
grounds, the factor from Nairn was coming 
down the drive toward them. He was smiling, 
so they knew that all was well ; he had decided in 
their favor, and they would see the castle in- 
terior. 

The factor put his finger to his lips. ** We'll 
just walk around the lawn a bit," said he. 
a I've refused admission to some English peo- 
ple staying at a castle near here, and they 
may yet be about the grounds. You under- 
stand that the castle's just being newly done up, 
a little painting and putting in new drains, and 
no visitors are allowed. The Earl and her 
Ladyship are in Edinburgh now, but they'll be 
coming here with a houseful of guests in a few 
weeks' time. I assure you we've our hands 
full to be ready for them ! ' ' and he shook his 
head wearily. But the factor had not the look 
of an overworked man. 

By the time he had shown them a most im- 
posing view of the castle from across a little 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 103 

river, a view including the long, severely plain 
portion in wMch are tlie living apartments, as 
well as the old fifteenth-centnry keep whose 
four pointed turrets tower behind and above, it 
was considered that the English party must 
have taken its disappointed departure; so they 
approached the castle entrance. 

^^ Bully! " shouted John. '' It's got a draw- 
bridge and a moat, only the moat's got two 
trees growing in it! " 

^^ Is that the only way to get in? " asked 
Betty, pointing to the ancient drawbridge with 
its heavy chains and its great beams, now green 
with the mold of ages. 

a Ay," replied the factor. 

'' Will it still work I " demanded John. 
^^ Can they pull it up the way they used 
to? " 

^' If his lordship wished, he could have it 
raised and lowered as in the old days. I showed 
Sir Henry Irving and Ellen Terry through the 
castle before their production of ' Macbeth.' 
Do ye ken that they copied our old entrance 
here for one of their stage settings? " 

The first courtyard they reached, after cross- 
ing the drawbridge, was littered with carpen- 
ters' tools and lumber, and men were noisily 
at work there ; they turned to the right into an- 
other courtyard where the factor unlocked a 
broad, low door. This is the entrance, he told 



I04 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

them, through which the Earl, his family, and 
his guests enter the castle. 

^ ^ Dandy old place ! ' ' exclaimed John, as they 
followed the factor through the dark, narrow 
passage. 

*' It's a really old castle and they haven't 
fixed it up a bit, ' ' said Betty, who was delighted 
with everything about Cawdor, — the uneven 
floors and the low ceilings and the small win- 
dows in the thick walls. 

Mrs. Pitt called attention to the fine oak 
paneling in the somber drawing-room, the fleur- 
de-lis design on the dining-room ceiling, and the 
rich tapestries; but as they came again into 
the hall, Philip and John espied a rusted iron 
gate at the foot of a winding stair. 

^ ' Where does that lead to ? ' ' they demanded. 

The factor told them they would explore in a 
few minutes, and meanwhile showed them a 
door close by, opening into the dungeon in the 
old keep. 

^^ Why, there's a tree here, too! '' exclaimed 
Betty, who had stepped in ahead of the rest, 
and whose eyes were sooner accustomed to the 
dim light. 

''■ Ay, that's Cawdor's famous hawthorn 
tree;" and the factor then went on to relate 
its strange tradition. 

The thane (or lord) who built the castle, con- 
sulting some wise men about the site to choose, 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 105 

was advised to put the heavy chest, full of gold 
which was to pay the workmen, upon the back of 
an ass and to build where the animal halted. 
The ass stopped at the third hawthorn tree and 
around it the thane built the walls of his keep. 

The tree is undoubtedly very, very old. It 
reaches to the ceiling of the dungeon and at 
its foot lies an old chest. Who will say that 
it may not be the very one which the ass car- 
ried so long ago? 

The winding stair by the iron wicket leads 
to a chamber which is large and light, has an 
old-fashioned curtained four-poster, electric 
lighting, and bare, plaster walls upon which the 
well-meaning guests have sketched certain 
weird scenes from Shakespeare. The room, 
called King Duncan's Chamber, is known as 
that in which Macbeth committed the murder. 

^' But I thought Macbeth killed him at Inver- 
ness Castle! '' said Betty. ** The penny guide 
says so.'' 

** And I thought it was at Glamis Castle, 
Mother," put in Philip. 

The factor and Mrs. Pitt exchanged helpless 
glances ; but it was Mrs. Pitt who spoke, for the 
factor was gazing intently at a coat of mail 
which is said to have served as a model for the 
one worn by Sir Henry Irving in the play. 

^* The fact is that all three castles claim to 
possess the identical room, but no one will 



io6 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

ever know where it really was. The tower at 
Glamis Castle may possibly have been built in 
the thirteenth century; they say it is probable 
that Inverness Castle was destroyed by a son of 
the murdered King Duncan; but no one can 
credit this Cawdor Castle keep with a date 
farther back than 1440. If one of us were actu- 
ally privileged to see Macbeth 's own castle as 
it existed during his lifetime, — well, do you 
know how it would probably look! " she 
laughed. '^ It would doubtless be made of 
wicker, or timber at best, and it would never 
do to copy it for a stage-setting intended to 
satisfy a modern audience. Wise Sir Henry 
knew that, and so he came to Cawdor for his 
inspiration. However, as long as we always 
like to select some place where we can ourselves 
picture such famous happenings, I confess that 
I long ago chose Cawdor as the scene of Dun- 
can's murder. I was not thinking so much of 
this room, which is far too cheerful, but of the 
winding stairway and the rusty iron gate, you 
know. I can almost see the marks of Macbeth 's 
bloody hands on that, can't you I " 

The spiral stair wound on even higher, and 
at length brought them to the battlement of the 
old keep, on a level with the quaint turrets 
which once served as lookout points. Below 
were the various courts of the castle and the 
other buildings with their flagged roofs and six- 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 107 

teentli-ceiitury dormer windows. The entrance 
to a tiny secret chamber, under the roof, was 
pointed out; here Lord Lovat is said to have 
hidden for a time after Prince Charlie's defeat 
at Culloden Moor. 

The views on all sides are very lovely and 
far-reaching, including many farms and great 
woods that extend in one direction twenty miles 
beyond the castle, all the property of the Earl 
of Cawdor. 

* ^ Oh, can you see from here where the witches 
danced? '' inquired Betty. 

*^ Over yonder, about four miles toward 
Forres, is what they call the ^ blasted heath ' 
where the witches accosted Macbeth,'' replied 
the factor. ^ ^ There 's nought but a bare hillock 
there, upon which the three witches stood, bare 
because they poured over its summit their 
poisonous brewing from the great pot. In that 
direction, I can see the roof of a castle. Ay, 
that's it. Master John; you've a good eye. The 
story goes that the eldest son of the Thane of 
Cawdor ran away with his sweetheart, who was 
called the Rose of Kilravock; they lived in that 
castle. The son was disinherited by his father, 
but after both were dead, the Cawdor estate was 
claimed by Eose's little daughter. The matter 
was left to the Duke of Argyll, then Lord Chief 
Justice of Scotland, and he gave his answer in 
the young girl's favor on condition that she 



io8 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

should marry Ms second son. Thus did Caw- 
dor come into the possession of the great Camp- 
bell family to which the Duke belonged, as you 
know. ' ' 

^' Might we see the garden? " asked Barbara, 
attracted by the gay flowers seen from the 
tower. The factor assenting, they had a de- 
lightful ramble through the gardens, where 
they found ideal old fountains ; long grass walks 
bordered by old-fashioned garden flowers and 
many rare ones as well; masses of beautiful 
flowering shrubbery ; and here and there formal 
beds and clipped yew hedges. There is a large 
fruit garden beyond ; and about a mile from the 
castle, a hermitage and a rock garden. The 
park follows the little river for miles through 
the woods, most of the way on the border of a 
deep gorge. The paths were very quiet and 
shady, and once they came upon a spotted deer 
which lay directly in their path and refused to 
move. They were sorry when the time came to 
retrace their steps. They glanced once again 
at the castle's aid-time drawbridge, and then 
followed John, who had gone ahead and was al- 
ready arousing their sleepy driver. 

That evening the train ride back to Inverness, 
the Highland Capital, was enchanting. The sky 
was deep blue and the great clouds drifting 
across were the purest white. They passed 
through fields of waving grain, deep yellow, in 




Might we see the garden?" asked Barbara. — Page 10b. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 109 

which the bright flash of wild flowers was some- 
times caught; in the distance rose purple hills, 
and those still farther toward the horizon were 
a smoky blue. 

^^ It's just as bright as a colored picture post- 
card," declared Betty. 

Men who have traveled far and seen the 
greatest and most beautiful cities of the world 
have sung the praises of Inverness; and the 
modern little city is certainly very fair. The 
river which divides it is as clear as a mountain 
stream, and so shallow in summer that boys 
can wade into the very center for their fishing. 
On a hill, above the river, is the castle which 
has a certain picturesqueness, although it is 
quite new and is occupied by the county offices 
and the prison. It is the site of historic old 
Inverness Castle. In front of it is a statue of 
Flora Macdonald, erected in 1899; but Mrs. 
Pitt took all the romance out of that, for she 
would have it that the heroine's attitude re- 
minded her of a London suffragette giving a 
street lecture. Best of all, the young people 
thought, were the Ness Islands, which are con- 
nected by many little rustic bridges, and with 
their trees and flowers make a pleasant resort 
for the townspeople. 

Soon after the canal-boat left Inverness early 
the following morning, they came in sight of 
Tomnahurich Hill or '' Hill of the Fairies," 



no JOHN AND BETTY'S 

which is described as ^' shaped like a ship with 
its keel uppermost." Strange to say, in spite 
of odd tales of the hill's connection with the 
^^ good people," it is now a cemetery, a very 
unusual one with its steep paths, and its monu- 
ments, one above another, on the hillside. So 
heavily wooded it is that, from a little distance, 
one has no suspicion of its purpose. 

Their trip down the famous Caledonian 
Canal, from Inverness to Fort William, was 
rather unsatisfactory because of the bad 
weather. Early in the day it had seemed prom- 
ising enough, but by the time they had come 
into the broader waters of Loch Ness, a strong 
wind was buffeting the little boat about and 
they were peering through a heavy mist at 
the mountains, the attractive country houses, 
and the occasional castles which they passed. 
After leaving Fort Augustus, where tiny 
bazaars lined either side of the lock, the rain 
began in earnest; in the stuffy cabin, babies 
cried fretfully and people slept noisily, occupy- 
ing more than their share of the narrow 
benches. 

It was a relief to reach Fort William, even 
to tramp through the rain to the hotel, which 
they had to do because the bus was over- 
crowded. 

Before dinner a lone piper stood under the 
front windows and played the same monotonous 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT iii 

tune over and over on his bagpipe for half an 
hour. Mrs. Pitt quoted an appropriate verse, 
describing this strange music : 

" ^ It was wild, it was fitful, it died on the breeze, 
It wandered about into various keys; 
It was jerky, spasmodic, and harsh, I declare, 
But still — it distinctly suggested an air.' 

^ ^ The bagpipe really belongs no more to the 
Scot than it does to the Englishman, the Irish- 
man, or the Italian,'' she told them; " in the 
early growth of all these peoples the bagpipe had 
its place. But with its strange tones, now gay 
and now sad, it seemed to appeal especially to 
the changeable Gael or Scot. In the days of 
the great chiefs, each had his particular piper, 
who was frequently a person of enough im- 
portance to have his own servants, such as his 
pipe-bearer. There used to be schools for 
pipers. Now that I think of it, the innkeeper 
told me that one still exists at Dunvegan. What 
a pity! We might have paid it a visit." 

^* Not for mine! " cried John, as the weird 
strains outside grew louder. ^^ I'm getting 
plenty of it right here ! ' ' 

And away he went to search out the head- 
porter in the hope of hearing something inter- 
esting regarding the observatory on Ben Nevis, 
the highest peak in Great Britain, which, they 
said, lay at the back of Fort William, behind 
the clouds and mist. 



CHAPTER SEVEN 

BEN NEVIS, PERTH, AND THRUMS 

Ben Nevis is said to be '* held on a snow- 
ball tenure '^; which probably means that long 
centuries ago a king gave the mountain to one 
of his subjects, in return for which gift he was 
to be presented with a snowball at certain stated 
times. The mountain now belongs to h family 
in which is combined the blood of the once hos- 
tile Campbells and Camerons with that of Eng- 
lish Sir Thomas Lucy of Charlecote, whose deer 
Shakespeare stole, according to tradition. 

In 1883 an observatory was founded on the 
top of Ben Nevis, but this has now been de- 
serted because of lack of funds and perhaps, 
too, because of the hardships which were en- 
dured by the men in charge. 

'^What hardships?'' inquired John; '* I 
should think 'twould be great living up above 
everybody else like that ! ' ' 

But the head-porter of whom he asked the 
question had been years at Fort William, had 
even talked once or twice with Mr. Robert 
Omond himself, the first head of the observa- 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 113 

tory, and he told John of many undreamed-of 
difficulties in connection with life 4,406 feet 
above sea level. 

He said that hares, foxes, and weasels sur- 
rounded the men; that in summer scores of 
energetic tourists climbed up to visit the ob- 
servatory, troubling the men by their innumer- 
able questions, whereas in winter not a human 
face would they see and practically no news 
would they hear. In summer there are always 
banks of dirty snow from which the delighted 
August tourist can snowball, but winter brings 
such storms and gales that it would sometimes 
be impossible for the men to reach their instru- 
ments only a few yards away, the windows 
being entirely covered with drifts and the men 
imprisoned. Sometimes there would be such a 
dense fog that the men dared not trust them- 
selves to move about for fear of falling from a 
precipice. Seven inches of rain has been known 
to fall in one day ; while again, even occasionally 
in winter, there would be times when the ob- 
servatory stood out clear-cut against the blue 
sky, flooded with brilliant sunshine. 

John was beginning to envy those men a 
little less. *^ Were there many thunder- 
storms^ '' he asked. 

*^ It's too high for ower mony storms to hit 
it," was the answer, ^^ but soomtimes the air 
would be sae charged wi' electricity the men's 



114 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

hair would fair stand on end ; and once the tele- 
graph apparatus was burned out wi' the light- 
ning. Ay, I ken that fine ! I Ve heard the men 
tello'itmyselM" 

As the train carried them off toward Perth 
the next day, the clouds lifted here and there 
enough to show them something of Ben Nevis ; 
but, as Mrs. Pitt suggested, they would have to 
return sometime and remain until fine weather 
permitted them to really see this mountain in all 
its grandeur. 

Slowly the engine wound its way between the 
mountains, now puffing up grade, now skirting 
the border of a wild, dark lake. The Grampian 
Mountains were beautiful, but oh, so lonely on 
this gray day of rain and cloud ! 

The distance from Fort William to Perth 
appears very short upon the Scottish map, but 
to Mrs. Pitt and the rest the trip seemed far too 
long. They were seven hours on the way and 
three times did they change trains before they 
pulled into Perth, which Mrs. Pitt promptly 
styled ^* dirty, damp, and drunken," as indeed 
she had reason to. 

However, they were only to stay the night 
there, and practically all that they saw on a 
short walk along the gloomy streets, were the 
site of the monastery where King James I was 
assassinated in 1437 when he had come from 
Edinburgh to spend Christmas, and the house 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 115 

where lived Scott's '' Fair Maid of Perth." 
This house shows signs of recent restoration, 
although parts of its walls are very ancient and 
it possesses a little round turret bearing the 
date 1393. 

** Hm! The maid needn't have been much of 
a peach to look fair in Perth! '' was John's 
brief comment. 

Half an hour's ride in a tram-car brought 
them to the gates of Scone Palace, a great 
stone mansion which is now the seat of the Earl 
of Mansfield. A flag was seen flying from the 
highest turret, and they well recognized this 
as a warning that the family was in residence 
and that visitors were to keep a respectful dis- 
tance. Consequently they could only recall, 
while waiting for the tram to start on its return 
trip, that to the monastery which stood upon this 
site did Kenneth II carry the Stone of Destiny 
in 834. Mrs. Pitt told them how it was placed 
in the monks' burying-ground, and how, in the 
event of a coronation, it was covered with cloth 
of gold, and the king conducted to it by the 
proudest nobles of his realm. The crowds 
were allowed to watch the scene from the Mount 
of Belief or '^ Boot Hill," its name being ac- 
counted for by a strange tradition. These same 
nobles, when attending a coronation ceremony, 
are said to have partly filled their boots with 
soil from their native districts; each was thus 



ii6 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

standing ^' on Ms own land," as was required. 
The king being duly crowned, the boots were 
always emptied in one spot which in time be- 
came ^' Boot Hill.'' 

The following morning dawned brightly. 
Passing close by old Glamis Castle, famed for 
its connection with the story of Macbeth and 
King Duncan and where is still carefully pre- 
served the gay motley suit worn by the last 
jester to a Scottish laird, the early train brought 
them to Forfar Junction. Here they boarded a 
train of the little branch line running to Kir- 
riemuir or ^^ Thrums,'' as Barrie calls it. 

The season being that of the ^^ summer holi- 
days " when most shops and factories are 
closed and everywhere a gala atmosphere pre- 
vails, the platform was crowded and the few 
coaches full many minutes before time for the 
train to start. Plainly troubled at the thought 
of having to put on another car, the wizened 
little station-master walked up and down, tap- 
ping the men on the shoulders to ask anxiously : 
*' Are all o' ye goin' to Kirriemuir, or are some 
o' ye juist hangin' aroond? " 

There are two great stone mills in the hol- 
low, close by the little burn which flows through 
Kirriemuir. These have taken over all the work 
which, in former days, each weaver did on his 
own hand-loom ; few, if any, people remain who 
still hold to the old-fashioned method of weav- 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 117 

ing, and in consequence the sound of the shuttle 
is seldom heard. In the time of Barrie's '' Sen- 
timental Tommy " the two most conspicuous 
colors to be seen in Thrums were orange and 
blue, — the orange of the masons' trousers 
stained by dust from the quarry and the bril- 
liant blue of the hearthstones. Times must 
change, however, and Thrums is less pic- 
turesque now, even going so far as to print and 
sell a penny guide which lays great stress upon 
the town's advantages as a summer resort. It 
has yet a few quaint corners, and Mrs. Duncan, 
Barbara's and Philip's old nurse, actually 
boasts a blue hearthstone. 

Mrs. Duncan lives alone in a cottage not far 
from the celebrated '^ Window in Thrums " 
house, to reach which it is necessary to leave 
Kirriemuir 's largest square, dive down a rough, 
steep lane, cross the bridge over the burn, and 
pantingly climb the brae, — the brae upon which 
Jess looked down from her tiny window for 
so many years. 

'' Who was she! " John asked, taking Mrs. 
Pitt's handbag and umbrella from her as they 
paused for breath at the steepest point of the 
brae. It was a moment or two before she could 
answer. 

^^ Sometime you must read about Jess in 
Barrie's book, ' A Window in Thrums.' With 
her husband, Hendry, and her daughter, Leehy, 



ii8 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

she lived in this little whitewashed cottage 
which you can just see near the top of the brae ; 
but Jess was an invalid and could only walk 
with help from her bed to her chair. So she 
sat all day long by her window, and when she 
was not busy with her sewing or her baking, she 
was watching the carts and the people going up 
and down the brae. Jess managed to know al- 
most everything that happened in Thrums. 
Now you can see her window, the one in the 
gable. ' ' 

'' But the window was in the kitchen, really! " 
Barbara protested. 

'' Ah, yes! That was Barriers own change. 
He couldn't describe the house exactly, you 
know! Who expects story-writers to do that? " 

Most of the Thrums houses are built of red 
sandstone from the hillside quarry, but the 
old ones are either dark and weather-stained or 
whitewashed. Jess's cottage periodically re- 
ceives its coat of white and it now has a slated 
roof. A neat sign announcing the name of the 
house and the fact that lemonade and souvenirs 
are on sale within makes it clear that the pres- 
ent occupants are entirely up to date. It was a 
sad disappointment not to find a roof of thatch 
with heavy ropes to prevent the wind from 
carrying it away. They went past Jess's cot- 
tage and hurried on. Mrs. Duncan would be 
expecting them. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 119 

* ^ My certie ! ' ' exclaimed the good woman, 
as she met them at her own door. ^' I was 
keekin' frae my window and before I heard the 
chap at the door, I saw Miss Barbara i' the 
garden. But I didna ken it was herseP for a 
meennte. I thought ' Ye canna draw my leg ' ; 
Miss Barbara '11 never be that tall! Hoo are 
ye! Hoo are jel Come awa' in! Your tea's 
ready, Mrs. Pitt, ma'am! " Tea she must of 
course partake of, even if lunch-time were an 
hour away. 

The outside of Mrs. Duncan's cottage much 
resembled the ' ' Window in Thrums ' ' house ; 
though old, it had been kept in good repair. 
But inside, the owner had clung to old-fashioned 
ways. Her kitchen has above all else a blue 
hearthstone, as we have already learned; but 
it has also a huge fireplace with an oven at the 
side, and a row of stockings hung from a string 
beneath the mantelpiece ; a ^ ^ hoddy-table ' ' for 
ironing and baking, small so that it can be 
slipped under the larger table at night ; and 
last of all a genuine box-bed built into the wall. 

^^ Do you sleep there, Mrs. Duncan? " asked 
Betty in amazement. 

a There's no a doot but I do! " was the an- 
swer. ''And I like it fine! It's sae warm 
there near the vent [chimney] for an old body! 
Ou, ay ! I wadna daur sleep in ony ither bed ! ' ' 

Old people believe that box-beds are far su- 



I20 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

perior to others because of the convenience of 
shutting a sick person away from any noise and 
confusion by closing the folding doors, or of 
being able to jump in and there undress quite 
privately, no matter who might be in the kitchen 
at the time. Thrums has not discovered the 
fresh-air cure nor does it believe in sleeping- 
porches. 

'^ What's this? '' said John suddenly, putting 
his hand into a small round hole in the kitchen 
wall. It proved to be the place where Mrs. 
Duncan kept her salt. 

In the ^' room,'' or parlor of the cottage, 
they saw a table on which stood a gayly painted 
reading lamp and some books; several hair- 
cloth chairs were set stiffly around the wall; 
and there was an ordinary iron bed. Mrs. Dun- 
can evidently respected the wishes of her guests 
who did not share her love of the old customs. 
Indeed not many could be found nowadays to 
agree with her. 

Of course, all these things were not seen in a 
moment. While Mrs. Pitt helped Mrs. Duncan 
in her preparations for luncheon and answered 
the nurse's volley of questions, the children 
climbed the ladder leading to the unfinished 
attic where there was little beside dust and rub- 
bish, wandered in the bit of a garden between 
the house and the dusty road, and thoroughly 
explored the cottage, especially admiring the 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 121 

wonderful red-and-blue shepherd and shep- 
herdess, with their accompanying cow and deer 
of colored china, which were on the ' ' room ' ' 
mantelpiece. 

For their luncheon they had delicious cold 
ham, bread and unsalted butter, more tea, jam, 
scones, pancakes, and bridles, these last being 
specialties apparently known only to Thrums. 
They are three-cornered turnovers of pastry 
with steak inside. 

'' Some eats them hot and some cauld,'' said 
Mrs. Duncan, flushing with pride at the interest 
shown. 

In general Mrs. Duncan shared the poor 
opinion of Mr. Barriers books held by the 
Thrums people. They consider that ^' nothing 
happens '' in his stories, and they find it a 
great bore to read about themselves and to 
recognize their own habits and ways of speech. 
But Mrs. Duncan, nevertheless, condescended 
to walk with them about the town and to show 
them '' the Den.'' 

'' The Den " is to Thrums what '^ the 
Islands " are to Inverness, a place for picnics 
and games on evenings and holidays. ** The 
Den " is a little green glen at the edge of the 
town, inclosed by precipices and steep grassy 
banks. Here " Sentimental Tommy," after he 
had finished delivering the weekly paper from 
London, for which service he was paid one 



122 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

penny a week, would join Ms sister and play- 
mates in inventing delightful games. Children 
were still playing here, and perhaps their games 
did not differ very greatly from some of 
Tommy's, — Tommy who could always " find 
a wy. ' ' 

'' Lemme see what those fellows are doing,'' 
cried John excitedly, running towards one end 
of the glen. " Looks something like baseball." 
But when he saw that, while in playing ' ' Bee- 
zee," the boys certainly do run to bases in a 
perfectly intelligible fashion, they do not use 
bats but wind a muffler around their right 
hands, hitting the india-rubber balls with that, 
he turned his back in disgust that knew no 
words. 

Instead of sa3dng " Time! " Betty noticed 
that they called out "" Barley! " 

*' What does it mean? " she asked, and was 
told that, like many Scotch words, it probably 
came from the French word parley, meaning 
^^ speak." 

They noticed some smaller boys who were 
playing a game of throwing buttons into little 
holes which they had scooped out of the ground. 
A Scotch boy prizes buttons as an American 
does his marbles, and of these a button from a 
soldier's coat is considered the choicest. Many 
children were spinning tops, which they called 
** peeries." In shady nooks sprawled some of 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 123 

the holiday-makers who had been their com- 
panions on the morning train from Forfar. 

Mrs. Pitt quoted for Betty and Barbara a 
charming paragraph of Barriers in regard to 
the size of ' ' the Den ' ' : 

* ^ ^ If she be with you, the Den is so large that 
you must rest here and there; if you are after 
her boldly, you can dash to the Cuttle Well, 
which was the trysting-place, in the time a stout 
man takes to lace his boots; if you are of those 
self-conscious ones who look behind to see 
whether jeering blades are following, you may 
crouch and wiggle your way onward and not be 
with her in half an hour. ' ' ' 

So, laughing, they started in search of Bar- 
riers birthplace in ^' the tenements.'' 

Kirriemuir is full of steep wynds and quaint 
closes, and many of her dwellings have outside 
stairs leading to a door in the second story. In 
summer the old people sit at the top of these 
steps and only stare when a camera is pointed 
at their frilled caps, huddled shawls, and coarse, 
patched clothing. In walking about one meets 
many who, like the ladies of Cranford, seem to 
reason : * ' Here everybody knows us ; away from 
home nobody knows us ; so what matter how we 
dress? " 

As it was a holiday, they met the dulseman 
in the square. On his wheelbarrow he had a 
long box full of the reddish-brown seaweed, and 



124 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

a shorter box in which were ^' buckies " or sea- 
snails. These the loiterers were buying as we 
see Americans buy peanuts, the " buckies '' be- 
ing pulled with pins from the shells, which 
afterwards strew the pavement. 

'^ Don't you remember,'' asked Mrs. Pitt, 
*^ how dulse was one of Hendry's extrava- 
gances? Oh, I forget that you children haven't 
read the book! He used to pay the dulseman 
about a bawbee (or halfpenny) every two weeks 
to have his pockets stuffed full of dulse. These 
men to-day are putting it in their pockets, but 
the women hold out their aprons, don't they? " 

*^ The tenements " is a block of old, plas- 
tered houses in which live some of the poorest of 
the weavers. In one of these cottages Barrie 
spent the first nine years of his life, learning 
there the ways and language of the humble 
people; later, the author lived in a house very 
near Hendry's cot, but strangely enough, he has 
never been inside the cottage he has made so 
famous. Not far from ^ ^ the tenements ' ' is the 
*^ Auld Licht Manse," the home of Barrie 's 
^^ Little Minister." It is an ordinary plastered 
cottage, perhaps a bit more pretentious than 
some, having two full stories; it was Barrie 's 
genius that made it of more interest than its 
neighbors. 

That evening the train to Perth took its own 
time, arriving at its destination about forty- 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 125 

five minutes late. But it was not crowded as 
was the one they had taken that morning and 
they had a compartment to themselves. All the 
way Mrs. Pitt entertained the others with de- 
scriptions of Scottish holidays and of odd plays 
and customs among the children. 

^^ Christmas/' she said, '^ is not such a fa- 
mous festival as with us in England. Long 
ago, at the time of the Scottish Eeformation, 
the people decided that there should be no Holy 
Day except the Sabbath, and, as you know, the 
Scotch, particularly the old people, cling to an- 
cient ways. You 've heard about some who still 
refuse to ride upon trams on Sunday ; your own 
Dr. Van Dyke once whistled of a Sunday on a 
village street and was sternly reproved by an 
elder who said, ^ Young mon, do ye no ken it's 
the Sawboth day? ' 

*' But to continue about the holidays. The 
greatest is New Year's, when the people begin 
to celebrate on the last day of the old year. The 
young men do not go to bed on that night and 
at twelve o'clock they ring bells and start off on 
a circuit of the village, making all the noise 
they possibly can with singing, shouting, or 
beating upon drums and tin pans. In years 
gone by the boys used to make midnight calls 
upon their friends, expecting to be offered re- 
freshments. This they called ^ First Footing,' 
but it is done but little in these modern times. 



126 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

Then, there's the children's day, the first Mon- 
day in January, which is called ^ Hansel ' or 
^ Present Monday.' " 

''What do they do then?" asked Betty 
eagerly, edging a little nearer Mrs. Pitt. 

" It's the time they have their presents, just 
as yon do on Christmas Day. People give them 
bits of money and trinkets. The older people 
go calling and each housewife must have on 
hand a good supply of shortbread. On the first 
of April the children play all the familiar 
pranks, the favorite being to send people on 
make-believe errands ; the day is called ' Gowk's 
Errant Day.' In certain country places, one 
of them being Drumtochty about which another 
famous Scotch author, Ian Maclaren, has writ- 
ten, ' Eastern's E'en,' the evening before Lent, 
is celebrated by young and old as a time of 
general merrymaking. At these gatherings 
there are usually scones in which thimbles or 
rings or threepenny-bits are baked. But really 
the best holiday of them all is ' Hogmanay 
Night.' " 

Here Mrs. Pitt paused once more, this time 
to search for their tickets, and John asked what 
that strange name might mean. 

" It may have come from the old greeting, 
' God be with you,' " she went on. " This is 
also on the last night of the year. The chil- 
dren go about in companies during the evening 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 127 

and people give them food and small coins. 
Best of all they like putting on funny costumes. 
Here's the way a Scotch woman once described 
' Hogmanay Night ' ; see if you can understand 
me when I imitate her speech. I must hurry, for 
we're almost back to Perth! 

'^ ' Soom blacks their faces wi' soot, wi' per- 
haps a spot here and there o ' whitening. Ithers 
hae false faces on. They wear auld coats, and 
tie their trousers up wi' strae. I gey often 
dress Jimmie as a wuman. I hae seen them no 
kennin' him at a'. Soom wull hae penny 
whustles, and they carry long sticks to pound 
wi' when they dance. They gae a' through the 
clachan to every hoose, and then to the farm- 
hooses not too far awa'. They gae in wi' no 
muckle knockin', an' the fowk say, " Why div 
ye no begin to sing and dance? " One o' their 
songs is this — 

" ' " Get up, auld wife, and shake your feathers. 
And dinna think that we are beggars, 
We're juist a wheen bairns come oot tae playj 
Rise up and gie us oor Hogmanay." 

Before they go, the fowk treats them to oranges, 
shortbread, or cake, and gies them usually a 
penny apiece. They wuUna get hame till ten or 
eleven o'clock, and soomtimes Jimmie hae near 
twa shillings.' " * 

* From " The Land of Heather," by Clifton Johnson. 



CHAPTER EIGHT 



DUNFERMLINE 



Promptly at nine-forty-four o'clock on a 
misty morning, the number thirteen was dis- 
played, and a man inside the little green box 
called out Philip's and John's names. At St. 
Andrews golf links one must await one's 
turn. 

The caddies also divide opportunities, it 
seems, for young and old were alike lined up in 
order behind an iron rail. The one who came 
forward must have been aged about seventy- 
five, but he stepped off as briskly as possible. 
At St. Andrews most people live for the ^^ an- 
cient and royal game," and for that alone. 

*^ Well, I'd rather have a little younger cad- 
die," muttered John, as he selected his driver 
from among the other clubs, ^^ but I suppose 
he '11 have to do ! " 

Considering the presence of their anxious 
friends and the crowd of interested spectators, 
the two boys made a fairly respectable start, 
and then they were off across the sand dunes 

128 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 129 

by the ocean, Mrs. Pitt, Barbara, and Betty 
following under their sun-umbrellas. 

*^ How proud John must be to be playing on 
the oldest links in the whole world. I wish I 
could play, too, but I don't know how! '' Betty 
was stepping lightly over the close-cut lawn of 
a putting-green, as she spoke. *^ How many 
years have people been playing here, did you 
say! '' 

** Oh, it was several hundred years ago that 
the Scottish national game was first played, and 
these old links have been famous ever since. 
There is a new course now, but most people 
still prefer to play on this ancient one which is 
quite free to all. You have only to ballot for a 
place. There are great golf meetings here in 
May and October, and then the town is crowded ; 
but at any time throughout the whole summer, 
St. Andrews probably ranks as the most 
fashionable resort in all Scotland. Look out 
for the ball, Barbara! A man's just going to 
drive! " 

At St. Andrews all roads seem to lead to the 
links; near by are the pavilions with their 
music, and the beach with its benches and its 
booths for the sale of ices and sweets; hotels 
and shops also face this open field, the starting- 
otf place for the golfers. At all hours of the 
day and into the evening, too, for the twilights 
are very long, men, women, and even children 



I30 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

may be seen wending their way in this direction, 
each carrying a golf-bag of well-worn sticks 
and each wearing a determined air as he strides 
along. Golf at St. Andrews is a business as well 
as a pastime. 

The day was very warm and close ; instead of 
lifting, the mist grew denser until it covered the 
sun. Mrs. Pitt was trying in vain to persuade 
the boys not to go around again, when the rain 
began and settled the question. 

^ ^ Oh, come along, Philip ! ' ' John cried, mop- 
ping his forehead energetically; ^' you don't 
mind a little rain! There's some fellows start- 
ing off just the same! " 

But even as they discussed it the rain came 
harder and harder and their aged caddie, still 
fresh, admitted that the weather would ^ ' maybe 
be saf t a wee. ' ' Reluctantly the two sportsmen 
were led away to their lunch. 

That afternoon, in spite of the rain, they 
bravely went back into the town and then fol- 
lowed South Street straight to the cathedral. 

^^ I want to show you boys what was here 
at St. Andrews before golf was invented ; yes, 
even as long ago as that! " said Mrs. Pitt, lead- 
ing the way past many old closes, or alleys, and 
quaint houses with red-tiled roofs. 

Indeed, having turned one's back upon the 
hotels, the links, and the tourists, one finds noth- 
ing that even mildly suggests the modern. Old 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 131 

houses, gateways, walls, carvings, castle, cathe- 
dral, and university constitute the real town of 
St. Andrews, long the center of the Scottish 
Church, and the seat of one of Scotland's four 
oldest universities. 

John was bitterly disappointed and could not 
help feeling that he had been deceived. ^* I 
thought St. Andrews was a place where a fel- 
low could play golf and enjoy himself," said he. 

^^ Oh, but he might be keen for cathedrals, 
too, at least between games, John," argued 
Philip dutifully, pulling him along after the 
others. 

High on a bluff above the water stands the 
cathedral founded by Bishop Arnold who was 
Bishop of St. Andrews from 1159-1163, in the 
reign of Malcolm III. But within its borders 
remain a smaller building and a high, square 
tower which at first glance appear to be much 
more modern than the ruin of the vast cathe- 
dral. Strongly built of gray stone this little 
church and huge tower of St. Eegulus contrast 
strangely with the crumbling cathedral walls of 
a warm reddish tone; yet the smaller edifice is 
much older, dating from no one exactly knows 
what early times. 

^^ The chronicles of the monks tell of its 
mythical origin," said Mrs. Pitt, stepping close 
to a sheltering wall for protection against the 
rain. ^* They say that in 307, the monk 



132 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

Eegulus, being warned in a dream of some 
calamity which should befall the remains of St. 
Andrew the Martyr, took possession of a part 
of them and sailed westward from the Holy 
Land until he reached these rocks. There is a 
cave below this cliff where the saint ^s bones 
rested until Eegulus built the tower and church 
to receive them. If this were proved true, ' ' she 
added, *' the date of the little church would be 
four hundred years earlier than that of any 
other building in Scotland.'' 

** It's a very nice story, anyway," said Betty 
approvingly. ^* Let's believe it." 

The townspeople now use the cathedral 
grounds as a kind of park ; children play around 
the bases of the ancient pillars of the nave and 
women perch on broken bits of the transept 
wall, knitting busily. There are a number of 
graves and monuments, one tablet being to the 
memory of Tom Morris, the famous golfer, 
with a relief showing him grasping a golf-stick. 

^^ I say! " exclaimed Philip, ^^ a man named 
Tom Morris still plays golf and keeps a shop 
near the links where you can buy sticks exactly 
like the ones old Tom used. He's a descendant. 
Did you know it, John? " 

Near the cathedral entrance is a beautiful 
gateway called the Pends, or Great Gate, which 
doubtless once led to some religious building; in 
the neighboring Dean's Court is another gate- 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 133 

way bearing the coat of arms of George Doug- 
las of Loclileven. 

^' Fancy! the boy who helped Mary Queen 
of Scots escape from Lochleven Castle! '' said 
Barbara promptly. '' IVe always liked him! '' 

St. Andrews Castle is very finely situated 
overhanging the sea, and like the majority of 
those in Scotland it has its host of memories. 
At first it was the quiet home of the Bishops of 
St. Andrews, but its splendid position soon at- 
tracted the attention of kings and warriors. 
Edward I of England took it in 1298; here 
James III of Scotland was born ; from its ram- 
parts John Knox, the reformer, once saw the 
approach of a French fleet; and here was the 
martyrdom of George Wishart who died for his 
faith, and the murder of Cardinal Beaton, who 
had cruelly brought about Wishart 's death. 

* ^ Its associations with Wishart and Cardinal 
Beaton are the most interesting pages of the 
castle's history," remarked Mrs. Pitt; ^* some- 
time you will study much about these two men 
and then you'll remember St. Andrews.'' 

As at the cathedral, people use the ruined 
castle as a pleasure ground. Although it was 
raining hard, ladies were contentedly sitting on 
the benches, reading or sewing under their um- 
brellas ; nurses in long blue or brown capes and 
bonnets with streamers strolled about with their 
charges ; and larger children, carrying little wet 



134 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

bundles, it was plain to see had been in bathing. 

In an alley leading towards the old colleges 
they encountered a number of people watching 
an escaped gray and rose-colored parrot which 
had lighted upon the top of a gray old wall. A 
man was trying in every possible way to cap- 
ture it, but was finally forced to see it fly away 
into an adjoining garden. 

* * My, I didn't know they could fly like that ! ' ' 
burst out John. '^ I guess some old lady's 
pretty mad! " 

As it was very late and very rainy they did not 
fully appreciate the blackened, carved buildings 
of the old university and its church, but Mrs. 
Pitt told them how it had been founded &ve 
hundred years ago, lacking only a few months. 

^* Do any of you realize,'' she asked, '^ that 
until about the year 1370, not one nobleman 
in the country could so much as write his own 
name? Forty years later this university was 
founded and so much was it needed that when 
the troublous times came to destroy both the 
castle and great cathedral, the little university 
lived on; it struggled much, but it still lived. 
There are now several colleges included in the 
university, St. Mary's, St. Salvator's, and St. 
Leonard's, and their buildings are scattered 
about this old town in quaint nooks and corners. 
It would take more time than we can give to 
explore them all, but I think I have made it 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 135 

clear for what St. Andrews stands, aside from 
its golfing." 

The following morning they took train for 
Kinross on Lochleven. In their carriage was a 
small boy, whose father and mother had been to 
his school to bring him home for the summer 
holidays. The boy was clinging fast to a book 
which had been awarded him that morning at 
the ^^ prize-giving. ' ' 

^' Oh, they give you prizes like that at Com- 
mencement, do they I Let's see the book! ^ Ba- 
con's Essays M What can you do with that? " 
demanded John, a little rudely. ^^ To-day's 
July 25th, too ! It must be awful not to have 
vacation begin until then. When do you have 
to go back to school! " 

The boy was very intelligent in spite of his 
youthful kilt and bare knees. He told John 
that the holidays would last until September 
25th only, but that he had a month free at 
Christmas time and another at Easter. He had 
spent one vacation at Aberdeen, he told them 
with much pride, a big, important, busy place, 
all built of gray granite. In the moonlight it 
looked like a fairy city. 

Soon he turned back to his parents, however, 
and John and Betty were amused to hear much 
familiar talk about the masters and about plans 
for the holidays. The father could not keep his 
hands off his boy, try as he would, and he was 



136 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

continually telling him stories abont the old 
black cat or the new green dachshund. 

^^ IVe never seen a green one before, have 
you? '' he would ask, at which joke the boy 
always giggled appreciatively. 

The two parties separated at a junction, and 
soon Mrs. Pitt and the others stepped down at 
Kinross. 

*^ Baedeker says that Lochleven has the finest 
fishing in the British Isles,'' announced Betty, 
forgetting for a moment what a hard thing that 
would be for her brother to hear. 

But this time John was reasonable. He real- 
ized that they had come to see the ruin of a 
castle which stands on an island in the gray 
loch, and that see it they must in the two short 
hours before their train should leave. 

The loch was gray because of a cloudy sky 
and a high wind. People in the village seemed 
greatly astonished that any lady should wish 
to cross the rough waters to see a bit of tum- 
bling ruin, but at last Mrs. Pitt did discover 
two idle fishermen who agreed to row them over 
for ^ve shillings. It proved not at all danger- 
ous, only a trifle unpleasant, this tossing about 
on the white-capped waves; it was not easy to 
make a landing at the frail wooden pier, but 
they jumped eagerly to shore and went towards 
the castle. 

Under a doorway in a long, high wall they 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 137 

passed, and then found themselves in the castle 
courtyard, now grass-grown and surrounded by 
the ancient ramparts on which one may walk 
through the tall weeds. In the midst of the 
court rises the old five-storied keep, an excellent 
example of the fourteenth-century style. 

^< Why, the door isn't on the ground floor! '* 
exclaimed Betty; *' how funny! How could 
they get in? '' 

* ^ It is true that the keep has a basement, then 
a first floor on a level with the court, and no 
main entrance except in the second floor which 
it needed a ladder to reach,'' Mrs. Pitt ex- 
plained. ^^ It was probably for greater safety 
and may be seen in a good many keeps of the 
period." 

The children explored the dungeons, and then 
crossed to a ruined tower opposite where were 
Mary Queen of Scots' apartments during her 
imprisonment. Here they loitered long, talking 
of Queen Mary. 

*^ She was only twenty-five at the time," said 
Mrs. Pitt, *^ and yet, think of the experiences 
she had had! Her mother was French, you 
remember, and Mary was sent to France when 
a little child. She dearly loved that country 
during her whole life. Mary was married, when 
still very young, to the Dauphin of France, 
and for a short time she was Queen; but her 
husband died, and she came home to be Queen 



138 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

of Scotland, which must have seemed like a very 
cold and uncivilized country to her. But I 
mustn't try to tell you her whole story now! 
Just before she came here, her second husband, 
Lord Darnley, had been assassinated. Civil 
war followed, for the people suspected their 
Queen of having planned this murder in order 
that she might be free to marry the Earl of 
Bothwell, who, also, may have had his share in 
the plot. Mary fell into the hands of her ene- 
mies and was brought here to be a prisoner 
at the castle of Lord and Lady Douglas of 
Lochleven. ' ' 

^^ But she escaped from here," put in Betty, 
who was very familiar with that famous Waver- 
ley novel, '' The Abbot," in which Scott tells 
of Mary's adventures in this castle. 

^^ Yes, after several attempts, she actually 
did escape," began Mrs. Pitt; and then they 
recalled young George Douglas, son of the Lord 
and Lady of the castle, who served his Queen 
so faithfully. His father guessed towards what 
end the boy was working, and forbade him to 
enter the castle. He, therefore, took lodgings 
in the town and calmly went on with his plans. 
Once Mary almost got away by disguising her- 
self in the poor clothes of the laundress who 
had come to deliver her work. Seated in the 
boat, the Queen's face was covered, but at some 
rude advance of a boatman she put up her 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 139 

hands and was instantly recognized. Althougli 
the rowers refused to take the Queen to her 
destination, realizing her helplessness they did 
promise not to tell of her attempted escape. 

^' But it was Willie Douglas, the orphan, 
who took the castle keys from beside Sir Wil- 
liam Douglas's plate while he was eating his 
dinner and gave them to the Queen. They 
locked the gates after them and threw the keys 
into the lake.'' 

** No, no, John! It wasn't just like that," 
corrected Betty, producing a leather copy of 
^^ The Abbot " which no one knew she had 
brought. ^^ Wait until I find the place! I'll 
read it to you. It was really Willie Douglas 
who did so much to help, but in the book he's 
Koland Graeme, you know. It's a much nicer 
name! There, this is where it tells about how 
he got the keys," and they all listened while 
she read: 



* * ' The keys had, with the wonted ceremonial, 
been presented to the Lady Lochleven. She 
stood with her back to the casement, which, like 
that of the Queen's apartments, commanded a 
view of Kinross, with the church, which stands 
at some distance from the town, and nearer to 
the lake, then connected with the town by strag- 
gling cottages. With her back to this casement, 
then, and her face to the table, on which the 
keys lay for an instant while she tasted the vari- 



I40 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

ous dishes which were placed there, stood the 
Lady of Lochleven, more provokingly intent than 
usual — so at least it seemed to her prisoners — 
upon the huge and heavy bunch of iron, the im- 
plements of their restraint. Just when, having 
finished her ceremony as taster of the Queen's 
table, she was about to take up the keys, the 
page [Eoland Graeme], who stood beside her, 
and had handed her the dishes in succession, 
looked sideways to the churchyard, and ex- 
claimed he saw corpse-candles in the church- 
yard. The Lady of Lochleven was not without 
a touch, though a slight one, of the superstitions 
of the time ; the fate of her sons made her alive 
to omens, and a corpse-light, as it was called, in 
the family burial-place boded death. She 
turned her head towards the casement — saw a 
distant glimmering — forgot her charge for one 
second, and in that second were lost the whole 
fruits of her former vigilance. The page held 
the forged keys under his cloak, and with great 
dexterity exchanged them for the real ones. 
His utmost address could not prevent a slight 
clash as he took up the latter bunch. ^' Who 
touches the keys? *' said the Lady; and while 
the page answered that the sleeve of his coat 
had stirred them, she looked round, possessed 
herself of the bunch which now occupied the 
place of the genuine keys, and again turned to 
gaze on the supposed corpse-candles.' " 



** I say, Roland Graeme was clever! " cried 
Philip enthusiastically. 

** Mother, here's a picture of Mary going 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 141 

down the castle steps directly into the boat. 
How could she when this tower is such a long 
way from the water I ' ' asked Barbara, who had 
taken the book from Betty to look it over. 

*^ But the island was much smaller then, and 
these walls rose from the water's edge. The 
loch was once drained, too; I believe that ac- 
counts for the change.'' 

*^ I'm going to begin reading * The Abbot ' 
all over again right away, even if I have read it 
^ve times already! " declared Betty, as they 
went back to the boat. 

The fishermen were so bent upon having an 
extra shilling apiece because of their long wait 
that they almost made Mrs. Pitt lose the Edin- 
burgh express. Wild as Betty was to arrive 
there, she was forced to stop over one train at 
ancient Dunfermline to see the Bruce 's grave in 
the old abbey, the second church on this site, the 
first having been built by Queon Margaret, 
sainted wife of Malcolm Canmore. A fine brass 
tablet, placed there more than five hundred 
years after Bru(ie's death, now marks the spot 
where he lies. 

** You told us that they buried his heart at 
Melrose," said John; ^^ thought they left the 
rest of him in the Holy Land! " 

Adjoining the abbey grounds is an old palace 
where King Charles I of England was born ; it 
has a splendid old gateway under which the 



142 JOHN AND BETTY 



street now passes. Opposite, by way of con 
trast, is Pittencrieff Park, a pretty little glen 
presented to the town by Andrew Carnegie, who 
was born close by in a tiny cottage with dormer 
windows. 

At a place called Queensferry, so named be- 
cause Queen Margaret used to land there when 
on her way from Edinburgh to her abbey of 
Dunfermline, their train began the crossing of 
the famous Forth Bridge over the great bay 
called the Firth of Forth. This bridge has been 
pronounced the greatest construction of the 
world, but John refused to believe that it is any 
more remarkable than the new bridges at New 
York until Mrs. Pitt quoted some figures which 
convinced him. 

*' I understand there is a bridge being built 
over the St. Lawrence at Quebec which will 
surpass this, however," said she, as the train 
again reached the shore and hurried on towards 
the city. 

So about ten o 'clock that evening they arrived 
in Edinburgh, and Betty was able to peep from 
her window at that wholly delightful place which 
has never entirely outgrown Walter Scott's 
name for it, — " mine own romantic town." 



1 



CHAPTER NINE 

THE FIKST DAY IN EDINBURGH 

'* Do hustle up with your hat, Betty! We're 
awfully late! I heard a bugle from the castle 
ages ago, and I'm sure the soldiers have 
started! " 

^' All right; I'm coming," said Betty, sud- 
denly appearing from behind the heavy cur- 
tains. " But I could look and look forever out 
that window at the castle! Yes, I know Mrs. 
Pitt's waiting, and I'll be ready in a minute. 
Oh, John, run and get your other gloves, please ! 
I told you last night you mustn't wear those to 
church! " 

Mrs. Pitt and Barbara were already in the 
carriage when Philip, John, and Betty came 
down; they drove along Princes Street, up 
across the Mound, and, turning into the High 
Street, they stopped at St. Giles' Cathedral, 
Edinburgh's Westminster Abbey. 

All the way Betty had been exclaiming, ^^ It's 
even nicer than I thought ! When I looked out 
the window last night, I could just see the Scott 
Monument and the Calton Hill and St. Giles' 

143 



144 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

steeple and, of course, the dear castle, and I 
truly decided it was perfect; but it's nicer in 
the daytime, after all. I'm too happy for 
words! Haven't I been wanting to see Edin- 
burgh for years and years, John I You know 
I have! " 

*^ Well, then, you're here; so you needn't talk 
so much about it," said John severely. 
** Listen! I think they're coming! " 

Sure enough, there in the distance was the 
weird droning of bagpipes ; it grew louder and 
louder until, outside the cathedral's western 
door, it finally ceased. From their seats under 
the high central pulpit, Mrs. Pitt and the others 
could see the soldiers march in, two by two, the 
members of the military band taking their 
places in front of the organ, and the rest filling 
the middle part of the church, always reserved 
for them at this early morning service. 

* * It 's rather a pity that there are so few to- 
day," whispered Mrs. Pitt. '^ Usually ^ve or 
six hundred are here, but some must be away 
now, at camp, perhaps." 

To strangers, however, the church seemed full 
of men in bright colors, — colors which made odd 
patches of brilliancy among the somber 
shadows. The men of the band were in High- 
land kilts; most of the soldiers were of the 
Eoyal Scots, in scarlet coats and trousers of 
Eoyal Stuart plaid, but some wore the green- 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 145 

and-white Gordon plaid, brightened by splendid, 
shining buckles. 

^ ' Some of them are pretty old, ' ' began John, 
speaking softly to Philip, ^ ' but a few of the lit- 
tle fellows don't look any older than we are. 

See that one in the third row, there; he^ " 

But just then the band began to play a hymn, 
and they all rose to sing. 

The wind instruments are played gently, and 
one is really surprised that they can take the 
place of an organ so well. One is soon accus- 
tomed to the unusual sound, and does not feel 
it to be inappropriate. 

Behind her hymn-book Barbara was whisper- 
ing to Betty, ^^ Mrs. Duncan's mother used to 
say it was dreadful to play an organ in the kirk, 
because it was ^ praising God by machinery.' 
Fancy! What would she have thought of 
this? " 

The men from the castle were most quiet and 
attentive throughout the whole service, much 
quieter than the rest of the congregation, chiefly 
composed of curious tourists who stared im- 
politely at the picturesque uniforms and made 
low-voiced comments one to another. The 
benediction pronounced, all left by the western 
door, lingering in Parliament Square to see the 
soldiers form in line and march up the hill to 
the castle, the band again in the lead. 

*^ Can't we go back into the cathedral now? " 



146 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

asked Betty, as they turned away. ^* There's 
heaps I want to see in there ! '' 

They were met by a cold verger, however, 
who informed them that it was ^^ hardly in 
order '' to allow visitors to inspect the church 
between services. 

^' No matter; we'll come back to-morrow, 
Betty," said Mrs. Pitt. '' I told the driver he 
need not wait, so we'll walk back to the hotel. 
We've a drive planned for this afternoon, re- 
member ; and this is the day for writing letters. 
Yes, yes, that must be done, even if you are in 
Edinburgh, Betty ! " 

^^ My! " cried John; ^^ they've got some reg- 
ular sky-scrapers here, haven't they! " 

*' Oh, you see. New York has only copied 
Edinburgh, after all," laughed Mrs. Pitt, as 
they stood looking down the deserted High 
Street. ' ' These tall houses are called ^ lands, ' 
and are now tenements where very poor people 
live. There have been some nine or ten stories 
high, I believe, and they say that in the Cow- 
gate there was once a building of fifteen 
stories." 

** But why did they make them so high 
here? " inquired Betty. ^' They weren't like 
that in London. ' ' 

'* It's all part of the story of how Edinburgh 
was built," Mrs. Pitt answered, as they again 
went down the hill towards the Mound. ^ ' The 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 147 

story is very, very interesting, and I shall tell 
you all about it. Let me see," she paused to 
glance at her watch ; ' ^ yes, I think we can spare 
the time. We'll sit down in the Princes Street 
Gardens here, and I can at least begin my story 
for you. ' ' 

On a warm, bright Sunday these gardens, be- 
tween gay Princes Street and the great steep 
rock of Edinburgh Castle, are always crowded. 
Children tumble about on the grass, — a little 
burned by the unusually hot sun ; beneath shady 
trees men stretch, asleep, with hats over their 
faces ; sweethearts occupy most of the benches, 
particularly those in out-of-the-way nooks ; and 
the broad paths are thronged with happy work- 
ing-people, out for a day in the open air and 
sunshine. 

Mrs. Pitt had a considerable search before 
she found an empty bench where she could sit 
with the two girls, leaving Philip and John to 
content themselves with the lawn. And so, sur- 
rounded by the people of modern Edinburgh, 
they talked of the Edinburgh of long ago. 

Looking high above them at the blackened 
sides and buildings of the castle rock, Mrs. Pitt 
said : " Of course, wherever there is such a rock 
as this, there is bound to have been a fortress in 
very early times. Legend says that the ancient 
Picts built a castle here, where they were in the 
habit of keeping their princesses until fitting 



148 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

husbands could be found for them. When we 
go up to the castle, you will see the tiny chapel 
built by Queen Margaret Canmore ; she and her 
husband lived on this old rock, considering it the 
safest place in their kingdom for the royal 
dwelling. ' ' 

< i There used to be water where these gardens 
are now; isn't that so, Mother? '' 

** Yes, indeed, Barbara; the great Nor' Loch 
was here, and served to make the huge castle 
rock even safer from attack. On the south side, 
where the street called the Cowgate is now, was 
a burn, or little stream. How different the 
place must have been when the entire city, in- 
closed by walls, was made up of the one long 
street running from the castle to Holyrood 
Palace ! 

*^ And so we have royalty living here at the 
castle; not long after, the monks were estab- 
lished at Holyrood, and this is how it came 
about. In 1128, King David, son of Malcolm 
and Margaret Canmore, was out hunting one 
day, when he became separated from his com- 
panions. In the valley, east of the castle, was 
the wild Forest of Drumsheugh, and there the 
king was wandering alone, when he was at- 
tacked by a white stag. He had given up hope 
of being rescued, when, suddenly, a silver cloud 
covered him, and there appeared a shining cross 
or ' rood.' The stag at once fled, and thus the 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 149 

king was saved. That night he had a vision in 
which St. Andrew bade him build a monastery 
on the site of his wonderful escape from death. 
Thus the Abbey of Holyrood was founded, the 
King giving the canons power to govern them- 
selves in a separate community of their own." 

Here Mrs. Pitt paused, and Betty said 
thoughtfully, * ^ Then the kings were here at the 
castle, and the monks at the other end of the 
long ridge of rock. I see. Please go on, Mrs. 
Pitt.'' 

** Naturally the canons had often to travel 
along the ridge to see their sovereigns, and 
the street became known as the Canongate, gaet 
being the Saxon word for street. Nearer the 
castle, it was called the King's Hie Street; and 
where the Canongate and the High Street met 
was a big city gate, the Netherbow Port. As 
the place grew, the nobles and courtiers lived as 
near the castle as possible, but all the religious 
men, connected with the abbey, built their pal- 
aces in the Canongate." 

^* Well," demanded John, who was growing 
a bit impatient, '' when are you coming to the 
sky-scrapers? " 

*^ I've come to them now," laughed Mrs. Pitt. 
** The strange little city, built all on the ridge 
of rock, had to be protected by walls, because 
the English and other enemies were almost con- 
stantly to be feared. No one dared to live out- 



I50 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

side these walls. As Edinburgh grew, closes, 
or passages, were made between the buildings, 
and houses were built on the steep slopes of the 
ridge; finally, the walls were extended to in- 
clude the Cowgate, too, but then, for a long time, 
it was impossible for the city to spread any 
more. It could not grow and cover more 
ground, so it grew upwards, John, and people 
added many stories to the buildings." 

** Just the same reason they have to make 
them so high in New York, ' ' declared John tri- 
umphantly. *^ I've heard Father say so! '' 

^* John! Why will you insist on comparing 
horrid New York with lovely things over 
here? " objected his long-suffering sister. 

** Mother, tell us just one more thing before 
we go, please. Why do they call it the Mound, 
that street we took to go up to the old town? '' 

** Only this one more story! Eemember! 
And then those letters must be written! How 
you children keep me talking! You must pic- 
ture the great loch, then, on this side of the 
castle, and close up against the rock. It served 
as a protection from enemies, as a place for 
pleasure-boating and for the ^ bonspiels ' or 
curling on the ice in winter, and as a conveni- 
ent place for drowning witches and for dumping 
all sorts of nasty rubbish from the town above. 
After Scotland was at peace with England, and 
had no enemies to fear, people began to live 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 151 

over here on Princes Street, then known as the 
^ Lang Gait ' ; and about this time the loch was 
drained. People going from the old town over 
to the new, found much discomfort in crossing 
this muddy valley where the Nor' Loch had 
been. George Boyd, a tailor, whose business 
frequently took him into the new town, hit upon 
the plan of dropping something in his path on 
each trip, a board, a stick, or a stone. People 
followed his example, until at last their many 
contributions formed the Mound on which the 
trams now run. It was originally known as 
' Geordie Boyd's Mud Brig.' " 

They mounted the steps from the gardens to 
Princes Street, grown from a narrow path in the 
fields, which it was less than two hundred years 
ago, into one of the finest streets in Europe. 

Their own rooms saw John and Betty for a 
good two hours, while the long home letters were 
written. Luncheon followed; then the drive in 
a taxicab around Arthur's Seat and out to 
Craigmillar Castle. 

Straight along Princes Street they went, pass- 
ing the Greek-like National Gallery and the 
Scott Monument with its graceful turrets. Just 
beyond the Post Office, Mrs. Pitt pointed out the 
little patch which yet remains of the ' ^ Old Cal- 
ton Graveyard. ' ' 

** Many great and honored men have been 
buried there," she told them. ^^ You've heard 



152 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

the name of David Hume, who was a philoso- 
pher and a historian, and those of Alexander 
Constable and William Blackwood, famous 
Edinburgh publishers. Do you see a bronze 
monument, Betty, of a tall man with a slave 
kneeling at his feet I ' ' 

< < Why, it 's our Abraham Lincoln ! ' ' John 
and Betty exclaimed. * ^ How did he happen to 
be here in Edinburgh *? " 

*' The monument was erected to the memory 
of one of the world's greatest men, and also to 
commemorate the Scotch- American soldiers who 
fell in your terrible Civil War. ' ' 

<< Why, here's another castle," cried John, 
pointing to a huge building close by. ' ' I didn't 
know there were two. ' ' 

^* It's the jail, John," said Mrs. Pitt, much 
amused ; ' ^ but really I 'm not surprised that you 
mistook it for another castle. Here 's the Royal 
High School, at the foot of the Calton Hill. 
That has an exceedingly interesting history, 
which I must sometime tell you more about. The 
big pillars on the top of Calton Hill are part 
of a great National Monument which was never 
finished. King George IV laid the foundation 
stone in 1822, but the funds were very soon ex- 
hausted. There's one consolation, though; the 
unfinished building looks much like the ruined 
Parthenon, which is one reason why people like 
to call Edinburgh ^ the modern Athens.' " 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 153 

They glanced at the gloomy pile of old Holy- 
rood Palace and its adjoining ruined chapel, as 
the motor car whirled them past; then they 
climbed the sweeping curves of road up the 
mountain of which the highest point is called 
Arthur's Seat, after that English mythical king, 
who fought much in the vicinity of Edinburgh, 
according to some traditions. This is known as 
the Queen's Drive, a very favorite place for car- 
riages, motor cars, bicycles, and walkers on a 
fine day, the views of Edinburgh, the surround- 
ing country, and of the blue firth beyond the city 
of Leith being truly superb. On the southern 
side of the mountain they made the descent, 
passing the curious column-like rocks called 
* ' Samson 's Ribs, ' ' and following the road until 
it brought them into picturesque Duddingston 
village, with its loch. Close at hand is Craig- 
millar Castle, among the trees on a hilltop. 

*^ I'll scare up the woman with the keys," an- 
nounced the capable John, running towards a 
cottage. 

To their vast disappointment he returned 
with the news that the castle is never open on 
Sundays; and, the caretaker having gone away 
from home, they were not able to try their 
powers of persuasion to change his rule. Over 
the lower, outer walls, they could see the usual 
square castle keep, and with this view they had 
to be content. 



154 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

*^ It's no great matter," began Mrs. Pitt con- 
solingly; ^^ but you might have seen Queen 
Mary's room, the dungeons, a beautiful old 
cedar-tree in the courtyard, and a truly fine 
winding stair." 

*^ Yes," exclaimed Barbara, ^* that's the 
duckiest old winding stair I ever saw! I can 
really imagine a queen and her court ladies 
using it." 

^^ Quite so, Barbara! Mary Stuart at her 
proudest could have swept down that stately 
stair. Although the castle is very ancient, part 
having been built in the thirteenth century, and 
having had its connection with many great 
events in Scottish history, it is as Queen Mary's 
favorite summer residence that the place is best 
known. From here the Queen could keep watch 
over her city, as you see. Here it was, also, that 
the fatal paper, providing for the murder of 
Lord Darnley, was signed. ' ' 

n There's something else that I remember, 
Mother. In this corner of the outer court- 
yard," and Philip stood on tiptoe and tried in 
vain to peer over the high wall, '^ is what was 
once a pigeon cote. Don't you know how in 
those days they always kept pigeons to give to 
strangers who came and asked for food? " 

* * How nice of them ! ' ' Betty reflected, as they 
stepped once more into the motor car. ** I 
wonder if that was Queen Mary's plan." 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 155 

On the way back to town they noticed many 
interesting places and things, but Betty longest 
remembered Jeanie Deans' cottage, with its 
garden and stone seat, which Scott has made so 
vivid to all readers of ** The Heart of Mid- 
lothian. ' ' 

'^ Oh, yes," said John, ^* we saw once where 
she met Queen Caroline, on the long drive in 
Eichmond Park, near London." It was much 
for John to remember all that, and his sister 
looked gratified. 

Soon they were back at their hotel, John and 
Betty flying at once to the window to see their 
adored castle, now outlined against the soft sun- 
set sky, and to listen eagerly for the soldiers' 
bugles. 



CHAPTER TEN 

OLD TIMES AND NEW AT EDINBURGH CASTLE 

'* Want a guide, Miss? Guide for the 
caustle! Show you the way to Mons Meg! 
Take you to Queen Mary^s room, 'n' royal 
jew 'Is, lady. This way! Guide; want a 
guide? '' 

All equally ragged and insistent, an army of 
small boys lay in wait for Mrs. Pitt and the 
others as they walked across the wide 
Esplanade in front of the castle. These chil- 
dren, who swarm about famous buildings and 
in the various closes, are a perfect pest in Edin- 
burgh streets. Sometimes each is telling dif- 
ferent facts, and again, all are shrieking the 
same information in one grand chorus. Usu- 
ally it is impossible to understand the absurd 
jumble produced by the combination of Scotch 
accent and Latin and old English inscriptions; 
but when intelligible, strangely enough, it is 
fairly correct, bearing a vague likeness to what 
one has read regarding the place of interest un- 
der discussion. 

* * He '11 be a guide, I suppose, when he grows 
156 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 157 

up, ' ' remarked Mrs. Pitt to Betty, with a glance 
at a young red-haired Scotchman who was 
dogging her footsteps. 

Very promptly, not from Betty but from the 
boy, came the answer, " Yes, Miss! " 

^* I say, Mother; let's hurry on! They're 
disgusting! " Following Philip's advice, they 
quickened their steps toward the drawbridge, 
the youngsters gradually falling behind. 

Griancing about the wide Esplanade, John in- 
quired, ^^ This is where the soldiers drill, isn't 
it? I had a picture once of rows and rows of 
'em in my geography. ' ' 

** Yes, they sometimes drill here now, I 
think," went on Mrs. Pitt, pausing to admire 
the view, ^ ' but in olden times, — that is, between 
about the years 1437 and 1670, — this was the 
place of execution for supposed witches, so 
many of whom were put to death about that 
time. Some one has estimated that as many as 
two thousand people were burned here, and they 
were not all ugly and ill-tempered, either, some 
of them being beautiful women who were en- 
tirely innocent. There was young Lady Jane 
Douglas, wife of Lord Glammis, but let's think 
of more cheerful things. 

^ ' In the seventeenth century and in the early 
part of the eighteenth, before the city was ex- 
tended, here was the only promenade for the 
fashionable citizens of Edinburgh. Many books 



158 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

and papers were issued denouncing the practice 
of walking in the King's Park, near Holyrood, 
and on the Castle hill, between the various 
church services on Sunday. But here the 
crowds would come in spite of the rebukes. 
There is an old song which refers to this, ' ' and 
Mrs. Pitt quoted : 

"*Wat ye wha I met yestreen, 

Coming down the street, my 30? 
My mistress in her tartan screen, 
Fu' bonny, braw, and sweet, my jo. 

" « li My dear," quoth I, " thanks to the night, 
That never wished a lover ill. 
Since ye're out o' your mother's sight 
Let's tak' a walk up to tlie hill."'" 

After crossing the old moat, now quite empty, 
but once filled with water pumped up from the 
Nor' Loch, they were obliged to escape more 
guides, this time professional ones. But in 
Mrs. Pitt's eyes they were altogether unneces- 
sary, as she knew well every inch of the old 
castle. 

'' This outer port is new, but has an ancient 
door studded with great iron bolts," said she, 
leading the way under it and up the road of 
rough cobblestones toward the Portcullis Gate, 
where one may yet see the groove in which an 
iron portcullis once hung. Over this gate is the 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 159 

Argyll Tower, so named because of the two Ar- 
gylls, father and son, who were imprisoned 
there and later executed for their loyalty to the 
Presbyterian faith. 

^' Mother, wasn't it one of the Argylls who 
was asleep just an hour before his execution? 
You know, that picture at home in the Houses of 
Parliament?" 

*^ Yes, Barbara, that was the younger Ar- 
gyll, who was brave and good up to the very 
last. When he was in prison here in the castle, 
on a previous occasion, he escaped in rather an 
exciting way. Do any of you remember? 
Some of his many enemies had contrived to 
have him arrested for some slight offense, and 
did not mean that he should escape, but his 
daughter-in-law, Lady Sophia Lindsay, came to 
his assistance. On the day before that ap- 
pointed for the EarPs execution, this lady went 
to say farewell to him, accompanied by her 
footman. When she passed out to her carriage, 
the guards noticed that there was something un- 
usual in the bearing of the footman, who had 
just then stepped clumsily on his mistress's 
gown. Hearing her scold him severely, they 
were reassured, however, and thus the Earl 
escaped to Holland, where he was safe for four 
years.'' 

*' Yes," exclaimed John, ** but you say that 
they caught him again, and finally finished him. 



i6o JOHN AND BETTY'S 

There wasn't much chance for a fellow in those 
days, not if he dared to breathe too hard! I'm 
glad I live now! Come along up these steps, 
Philip; isn't that old gun, Mons Meg, up 
there? " 

On one of the highest platforms, or batteries, 
stands the famous gun called Mons Meg, about 
the history of which there have been so many 
opinions. An inscription on it tells that it was 
forged at Mons, in Belgium, in 1476, but Walter 
Scott held this to be false, believing that the 
M'Lellans presented it to James II in 1455. 

* * At any rate, it has played its part in Scotch 
events, ' ' said Mrs. Pitt. ' ^ We know that it was 
used at a siege of Dumbarton Castle in 1489; 
the records in the Treasurer's book remind us 
that eighteen shillings were paid to the gunners 
for ^ drink money. ' The gun was fired to cele- 
brate the marriage of Queen Mary to the 
Dauphin of France in 1558; but in 1682, when 
being fired to salute the Duke of York, it burst. 
It was loaded with balls of granite, John. 
Fancy! Mons Meg was taken to the Tower of 
London, but its rightful place was always here, 
and in 1829 it was brought back through the in- 
fluence of Sir Walter Scott. But come, let's 
look inside Queen Margaret's Chapel. It's one 
of the oldest in all Scotland." 

The chapel is a tiny building of gray stone, 
only measuring sixteen by ten feet. It has now 




M 7 
o J 

o o 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT i6i 

been restored and looks much as it did many 
centuries ago. 

^' Do you see the ancient zigzag molding? '^ 
asked Mrs. Pitt, *^ and the beautiful round 
Saxon doorway with its carvings ? ' ' 

** Everybody seems to have loved this Queen 
Margaret so very much/' reflected Betty. 
'' Why did they, Mrs. Pitt? " 

* ^ Well, dear, she must have been an unusually 
lovely character. I'll tell you a little of her 
story, if you care to hear it. She was the little 
Saxon Princess Margaret, who was returning 
from England to her grandfather's court in 
Hungary, with her mother, her brother, and her 
sister, when a storm arose and their ship was 
blown upon the shores of Scotland. The royal 
travelers came ashore at a place near the Forth 
Bridge, and when rough, middle-aged King 
Malcolm saw the lovely Princess Margaret, he 
at once fell in love with her. To her husband's 
people their new Queen brought many blessings. 
First of all, she made them love her by showing 
an interest in their welfare, and by trying to 
help them. Having thus gained an influence 
over them, she slowly taught them the gentler 
manners and more refined ways of the Con- 
tinental court where she had lived. And, last 
of all, she herself was very religious. It is said 
that although King Malcolm could not under- 
stand the words in his young wife's prayer- 



1 62 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

books, he used to kiss them to show his rever- 
ence for her and her beliefs. Yes, John, you 
may go and talk to the soldiers ; certainly. But 
I'm sorry you're not interested in Queen Mar- 
garet. 

'^ Long after this, when the King and his eldest 
son went away to England to fight King William 
Rufus, the Queen and their children moved from 
Dunfermline to Edinburgh Castle for greater 
safety. The Queen, who was very ill, had just 
heard a service in her own little chapel here, 
when one of her sons arrived with the dreadful 
news that his father and brother had been killed 
in a battle near Alnwick. The Queen died al- 
most immediately. Her children had lost not 
only their father and mother, but were also in 
great danger, as Donald Bane, their uncle, 
wished to gain the throne for himself and was 
already besieging the castle. The Queen's 
friend and servant, a monk called Turgot, was 
much troubled as to how he could carry away 
the children and their mother's body to safety; 
but just then a wonderful fog came up, a fog 
so dense that he was able to lead the way, in 
much danger, out through a little postern gate 
and down the steep rock. In due time the party 
reached the Abbey at Dunfermline, and there 
the King and Queen were buried. The room 
where Queen Margaret died was long after- 
wards called * ye blessit Margaret's chalmer.' " 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 163 

^' Which room was it? '^ asked John, who had 
remained to listen, after all. 

" No one knows where the room really was. 
The buildings and rooms of a castle can hardly 
remain the same during so many hundred 
years.'' 

Really, John should not be blamed for being 
attracted to the soldiers who throng the castle. 
In their scanty plaid trousers or kilts and 
jaunty Scotch caps, dozens of them may always 
be met with strolling about in carefree fashion, 
lingering in sunny corners to chat, or admiring 
the fine views in company with their sweet- 
hearts from the city below. 

* * They must have a corking time of it ! " ex- 
claimed John. " Don't they ever have any- 
thing to do except when there's a war? " 

' ' Oh, most of these men you see all about are 
raw recruits who are being trained here. Yes, 
I suppose they must have some duties and many 
drills ; but it 's true that they always seem to be 
enjoying life to the full." 

'^ John just thinks he'd like to wear beautiful 
plaid trousers that are too short for him, and 
a hat over one ear, and a bright-red coat with 
a shiny belt buckle! " laughed his sister, 
soon adding wisely, " but he wouldn't like 
it long. I know John. This is exactly like 
his wanting to be a Horse Guard, down in 
London." 



1 64 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

This was too much. John thought he was old 
enough to know his own mind ; scorning any re- 
ply, he turned and walked toward the Half- 
Moon Battery. 

Here all visitors note the '* One-o 'Clock 
Gun," by which Edinburgh people daily set 
their watches. By an electric wire, it is at- 
tached to the time-ball on the top of Nelson's 
Monument on Calton Hill, opposite; this ball 
falls in response to a signal at Greenwich 
Observatory, near London, where is set the 
time for the whole world. Lost in his admira- 
tion of this arrangement, John entirely forgot 
to be angry with his sister. 

^' But here's something else you must see," 
cried Mrs. Pitt, ** something vastly more inter- 
esting than the ^ One-o 'Clock Gun,' that is, in 
my opinion. Master John. Do you see this 
square box, made of iron, and standing on four 
legs? In 1455 a law was passed that on the top 
of certain hills and castles should be these 
boxes, ready for lighting at any moment. If it 
was night, oil and tar were poured on to make 
flames, and if in the day-time, straw v/as used 
to make smoke. The instant danger was dis- 
covered, these bale-fires were lighted, and it is 
said that all Scotland could be warned in two 
short hours. Good news was sometimes spread 
in this way, too, such as the victory over the 
Spanish Armada." 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 165 

^^ They don^t need to do it any more, of 
course/' said Barbara. 

^^ No, I think the last time was in the year 
1804, when the French were threatening; but 
the old iron box is still here. ' ' 

Entering old Palace Yard, the historically in- 
teresting part of the Castle, they climbed a 
winding stair to the Crown Room. Here, in a 
gloomy, vaulted room and behind iron bars, is 
the ^^ only ancient Regalia in Britain," Crom- 
well having destroyed that of England. Some 
believe the crown to date back as far as the age 
of Bruce, but it is probably not older than the 
reign of James V. 

For some time they gazed at these gorgeous 
jeweled objects, the crown, the sceptre, made in 
Paris for James V, and the Sword of State pre- 
sented to James IV by the Pope ; then Mrs. Pitt 
spoke, softly so as not to disturb the other vis- 
itors. 

* ^ The Scottish Regalia has had many experi- 
ences,'' she said. ^' The people feared that 
Cromwell would destroy it, as he had that of 
England, and so they sent it away to the castle 
of Dunnottar. There, in a moment of great 
danger, it was carried away in a bag of lint on 
a woman's back, and hidden beneath the pulpit 
of a neighboring parish church. The pastor 
kept it there in safety for eight years. The 
Regalia was saved! Then, at the time of the 



1 66 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

union of the two kingdoms, the people again 
feared for its safety, and it was accordingly put 
into this chamber, which was sealed up, with 
an order that the door should never be opened. 
Some eighty-odd years later the room was 
broken open in a search for some valuable pa- 
pers; the old chest was shaken, but made no 
sound. For one hundred and ten years the 
jewels remained in the chest, and people had 
either entirely forgotten about them, or else 
they laughed at the story of their existence. 
But in 1818, influenced by Sir Walter Scott's 
interest and his own curiosity, King George IV 
ordered the locked room to be opened and a 
thorough search to be made. Certain chosen 
men and officials, among whom was Scott, in his 
capacity of Clerk of Sessions, broke open the 
rusty lock of the old chest, and, to their great 
delight, found the long-lost Scottish Eegalia. 
The eager, waiting crowd was immediately told 
the glad news, a salute was fired, and there was 
much rejoicing." 

^ ' And so they lived happily ever after ! ' ' put 
in John, before Mrs. Pitt could get breath to 
finish her story. 

'' IVe not yet finished, John," said she, 
calmly continuing after a smile at Betty's 
troubled face. ^^ I was going to tell you of an 
incident which shows how Scott regarded the 
old treasures. Some little time after their dis- 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 167 

covery, he and some friends came again to this 
room, accompanied by a few ladies. In his 
* Life of Scott/ Lockhart describes the scene 
for us, saying that Scott's daughter had become 
so much stirred at hearing her father tell of the 
Eegalia, that, upon seeing it herself, she almost 
fainted. Just then, as Lockhart says, ' she was 
startled by his [Scott's] voice exclaiming in a 
tone of deepest emotion — '^ No, by God, no! " 
One of the Commissioners, not quite entering 
into the solemnity with which Scott regarded 
this business, had, it seems, made a sort of 
motion as if he meant to put the Crown upon 
the head of one of the young ladies near him; 
but the voice and aspect of the great poet were 
more than sufficient to make the worthy gentle- 
man understand his error.' " Closing the book 
from which she had been reading, Mrs. Pitt 
added, * ^ Fancy ! We are standing in the same 
room, and there's the very same chest! " 

Quietly they went down the spiral stairs, and, 
after noting a little doorway over which, Mrs. 
Pitt told them, the tiny bones of an unknown 
infant had been found not long ago, they turned 
in at the door leading to Queen Mary's apart- 
ments. 

'' What's the H for? " asked Betty, looking 
over the low doorway, where were carved the 
initials H and M, and the date 1566. 

** Darnley's first name was Henry, you 



1 68 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

know/' replied Philip, with more confidence 
than usual. 

<« IVe got a closet at home that's bigger than 
this Queen's bedroom! " boasted John, just 
as Betty exclaimed, ^^ It makes me think 
of Wolsey's little ' closet ' at Hampton 
Court." 

They had stepped into the tiny room where 
King James VI was born, a room only about 
eight feet long and very odd in shape, with one 
casement window. Surely Queen Mary was 
content with small quarters ! It is said that she 
always slept on a camp bed except when she 
was at Holyrood. 

** Do you notice the old paneling? " said Mrs. 
Pitt, '^ and the low ceiling carved with the ini- 
tials I E and MR? It is just as it was in 
Mary's time, but the paneling is even older, for 
it was brought from the Edinburgh palace of 
Mary of Guise, Queen Mary Stuart's mother. 
It was from this window that they let the baby 
prince down in a basket for Mary's friends to 
carry him away to Stirling to bring him up 
in the Catholic faith. You remember about 
that, Betty? " 

*^ Yes," she replied; and, going to the win- 
dow, added, ** The QuBen had a beautiful view, 
anyway, even if she couldn't have a room big 
enough for a real bed." 

Filling one side of a square court is the old 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 169 

Parliament Hall, restored within a few years by 
an Edinburgh citizen, William Nelson, who also 
gave the fine collection of armor which is dis- 
played there. There is a grand old fireplace 
and a fine oak roof, its beams bearing shields 
which show the arms of the castle's most fa- 
mous governors from 1007 to 1805. Here the 
Scottish Parliament met, and Coronation feasts 
were held, and here was given the Earl of 
Leven's famous banquet to Cromwell in 1648. 
The windows of the hall overlooked an open 
space called the Grassmarket, the tilting-ground 
in the days of the Stuart kings, James IV being 
especially fond of the exercise. 

^^ Be sure to look at the buttery-hatch," cau- 
tioned Mrs. Pitt, as they passed out. ^^ It's 
there! That sliding panel in the wall! 
Through it was passed the black bull's head 
which was used at the * Douglas Black Dinner,' 
in the days when wicked Crichton was in com- 
mand here. Wishing to be rid of the young 
Earl at the head of the Douglas family, whose 
power he feared, Crichton invited him, with his 
brother, to a banquet in the Parliament Hall. 
Immediately after the appearance of the fatal 
black bull's head, the two brothers were taken 
below and cruelly beheaded. ' ' 

In an angle of the ramparts is a pathetic little 
dogs' cemetery which greatly interested Betty. 
Nothing would do but she must stop to read 



I70 JOHN AND BETTY 

some of the quaint names and epitaphs which 
mark the graves of these pets of the soldiers. 

As they again crossed the wide Castle 
Esplanade, they were startled by hearing the 
'' One-o 'Clock Gun " fired. 

*^ My word!'' cried Mrs. Pitt in astonish- 
ment. '' There was so much planned for us to 
do this morning ! I had no idea it was luncheon- 
time! " 

^^ Well, then, I had," announced John, jerk- 
ing his loose belt up and down suggestively. ** I 
get hungry even in Edinburgh." 



CHAPTER ELEVEN 

LANDMAEKS OF OLD EDINBUKGH 

^* I CALL it a cheap enough old place! " an- 
nounced John, looking with a young American's 
critical eye at historic Holyrood Palace. 
^* Wouldn't be hired to live there myself if I 
were the King ! ' ' 

They were standing in the wide graveled 
space near the great fountain, and before them 
rose the ancient palace, big, black, and for- 
bidding. 

** It's gloomy enough, to be sure," Mrs. Pitt 
had to own. ^* The old walls have looked 
down upon many gay, happy scenes, as well as 
upon terrible tragedies, but they seem to have 
forgotten all except their sad memories, don't 
you think so ? " 

But Betty could agree neither with Mrs. Pitt 
nor with her brother. To her Holyrood was an 
enchanted place, a palace she had read about, 
and always hoped to see, a palace where real 
things had once happened. Wasn't that left- 
hand tower facing them the very one in which 
were Mary Stuart's own apartments; hadn't 

171 



172 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

that same northwest wing been built long, long 
ago by King James V? 

** Come along; aren't we ready to go in 
now? " she inquired, thrusting a small fore- 
finger between the pages of her Baedeker to 
mark the place. 

On either side of the entrance are two sentry- 
boxes, and a soldier paces back and forth; he 
allowed them to pass on unchallenged into the 
quadrangle, however, and they turned to their 
left. Then a dreadful thing happened, some- 
thing which greatly troubled Betty's sense of 
the importance, the seriousness of this, her 
first visit to Holyrood Palace. The party was 
met by an official guide, probably an old pen- 
sioner, very brave in his neat uniform, gold 
braid, and medals ; but, unfortunately, he had a 
toothache, which was most plain from the size 
of his right cheek. When he spoke it was as if 
he had a mouthful of hot food, and the sounds 
were beyond the power of man to understand, 

** Excuse me, sir? " queried Mrs. Pitt 
politely, scowling at John, who was struggling, 
without any noticeable result, to stifle his mirth. 

The remark was repeated ; then, with a pained 
expression, showing that he understood how 
vain were all his efforts, the poor man strode 
off in search of assistance. 

For a moment they gave way to their merri- 
ment; but, seeing the guide coming back, John 



-^. 




SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 173 

suddenly sobered, and whispered tragically, 
^^ If he's going to show you through the whole 
place, I won't go along; that's settled. You 
know perfectly well I couldn't stand it, Mrs. 
Pitt, and I'd disgrace Betty forever! My, but 
he's got a corking accent! " 

Before Mrs. Pitt could answer, because of her 
own laughter, the man was again upon them. 
This time he said not a word; he merely 
beckoned majestically. Awed into silence, 
they followed him along a corridor and through 
an arched doorway, until they found themselves 
in the ruined abbey church. The afflicted guide 
had vanished, to their immense relief, and an- 
other, with a face of normal proportions, came 
towards them. 

** You see. Madam, it's too early for the 
State Apartments; they are not open for half 
an hour, and he wanted you to come in here 
first." 

Accordingly they strolled about in the ruin 
of what was once the *^ magnificent Abbey-Kirk 
of Halirude," always the church of the kings 
as St. Giles' was that of the people. Only a 
small part of it now stands, but the beautiful 
western doorway, with its elaborate carving, 
and some exquisite windows, remain to give us 
a slight idea of what the church must once have 
been. In the royal vault are buried many fa- 
mous persons ; but some of the names meant lit- 



174 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

tie to Betty; she was more interested in a 
tiny wooden door, studded with great nails, 
which she found in the corner of the abbey 
church nearest the palace itself. 

'* It might have been here forever, it's so 
old! '' she declared, standing fascinated before 
the low portal. ^ * Where do you think it leads 1 
Is there a stairway? " 

''I'll tell you what I think," Mrs. Pitt replied 
understandingly. '' I think it led to a certain 
winding stair in the wall, which, as you will see 
when we go inside, connects the apartments of 
Mary with those of Darnley, her husband. That 
little stair and the door suggest so many things 
to my mind, Betty. Long before there was any 
royal palace here (that was not begun until the 
time of James III, you know), the abbey had 
what is called ' right of sanctuary ' ; indeed, the 
Palace Yard, and even a bit of the lower Canon- 
gate, had this same old privilege, which means 
that debtors and certain criminals who could 
reach these precincts were quite safe from the 
law. Holyrood has always had this ' right of 
sanctuary,' and has it still, although, of course, 
no one takes advantage of it nowadays. Natu- 
rally, many conspiracies were hatched in and 
about the palace, and I can imagine a palace 
servant, or even a courtier, who had been guilty 
of some fault, rushing madly down the stairs 
to reach the altar. I think, perhaps, Mary her- 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 175 

self sometimes came cIowtq to the church by this 
secret way; she must have needed comfort and 
quiet often enough! And who knows but the 
murderers of the Queen's favorite, Eizzio, may 
have reached Darnley's rooms by means of this 
little door. Betty, my imagination is almost as 
active as yours, isn't iti " 

The others had now joined them, and together 
they went into the palace. 

If the children had shuddered just a bit when 
they first saw the exterior of old Holyrood, this 
feeling grew upon them as they walked about 
the rooms filled with heavy antique furniture, 
and hung with tapestries and faded portraits. 
The long Gallery of the Kings has one hundred 
and ten such portraits, representing all of Scot- 
land's kings; Charles II had them painted by 
a Flemish artist, who was to receive £120 
sterling for finishing them in two years. They 
are all much alike and very ugly, except a 
lovely, unusually human likeness of Queen 
Mary. 

It was a relief to step out of this apartment, 
with its many faces, and to pass through the 
Duchess of Hamilton's room into those of Darn- 
ley. Here are some fine hangings, and an occa- 
sional cabinet or chair which has belonged to 
royalty. 

Most interesting of all, however, are the 
Queen's rooms, exactly above Darnley's. The 



176 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

famous turret-chamber is so small that it is 
difficult to imagine it in use. This was where 
the Queen might be alone with her friends, — the 
very place where she was sitting with Rizzio 
and a few others when the murderers came up 
the secret stairs to drag the Italian out. The 
walls of all these rooms are hung with old 
tapestry, giving an excellent idea of how they 
probably looked when the Queen lived in them. 

** I suppose she brought the tapestries with 
her from France, and, perhaps, this ducky little 
mirror,'' said Barbara, when they were in the 
adjoining chamber, with its great bed in torn 
silken covering. '' They didn't have any lux- 
uries in Scotland, did they, not until the Queen 
and her four Maries brought them across the 
water? " 

Just then Betty discovered Mary Stuart's 
work-box, under a glass case to preserve its 
frail embroideries as long as possible. 

' * I once had a peep inside it, ' ' said Mrs. Pitt. 
** Shall I tell you what I saw? It is lined with 
pink satin, fitted with spools and scissors just 
like mine, and there's a little mirror in the lid, 
not like mine! There's also a queer little cap 
said to have been worn by Mary's father, James 
V, who was fond of going about his kingdom dis- 
guised as the * Gudeman of Ballengeich ' ; 
there's Mary's lachrymatory, in which she 
caught and preserved her tears ; and, best of all, 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 177 

there's a glove which once belonged to 
Darnley. ' ' 

** Perhaps," suggested Betty, '^ jnst before 
she left the palace, Mary was mending a hole 
in the thumb! " 

Crossing Mary's audience-chamber, they 
came to what Betty considered the ^' most ex- 
citing spot of all, ' ' the entry, near the principal 
stairway, where the Scotch nobles finished their 
murder of Rizzio. Blood-stains are still 
pointed out upon the floor, stains which Mary 
herself is said to have ordered to '^ remane 
as ane memoriall to quychen and confirm her 
revenge. ' ' 

** Wish I'd brought along that bug-light! " 
muttered John. *' It's so dark here I can't see 
a single stain ! ' ' 

Fortunately the melancholy guide was no- 
where to be seen as they passed out. They 
viewed the quaint house with its steep roof of 
soft red tiles, called Queen Mary's Bath, where 
she bathed in white wine in the hope of increas- 
ing her charms ; then they began their walk up 
the Canongate. Soon they reached ancient 
Queensberry House, once the proud residence of 
Scottish nobles, now a House of Refuge for the 
Destitute; almost opposite opens White Horse 
Close, which narrow passage they entered. On 
the further side of the little court into which the 
close widens, there is yet standing a building, 



178 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

which, with its two unusually quaint gables, its 
tiled roof, and steep outside stairway, is one of 
the most picturesque old houses in Edinburgh 
to-day. 

" It's the old White Horse Hostelry, named 
for a certain palfrey belonging to Queen Mary, ' ' 
said Mrs. Pitt. ^' It was always famous as an 
inn. Here the officers of Prince Charlie's army 
had their headquarters, and here Dr. Johnson 
lodged. Well, try a photograph if you like, 
John; I doubt if the children will let you take 
it.'' 

At least a dozen little ragamuffins had been 
assailing them from all sides, crying pitifully, 
^ ' Spare us a penny ! Spare us a penny ! " In 
their curiosity at sight of John's camera, they 
forgot to beg, but they would persist in stand- 
ing directly in the way, so John worked under 
difficulties. 

^^ Can't some of you shoo 'em away? " he ex- 
claimed impatiently. ^^ They're worse than 
they were up at the castle ! " 

On their walk up the Canongate and the High 
Street, they saw countless entrances to closes, 
many of the doorways bearing ancient coats of 
arms, dates, and curious inscriptions; if in- 
vestigated, they seldom failed to disclose more 
quaint buildings, turrets, doorways, and spiral 
stairs inside round towers. Betty, who had a 
great horror of the dirt and wretchedness which 




It's the old White Horse Hostelry, named for a palfrey 
BELONGING TO QuEEN Mary ."—Page 178. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 179 

are found in their worst phases in old Edin- 
burgh, actually forgot to turn up her nose, be- 
cause it was all ^^ so adorably interesting.'' 
Mrs. Pitt could scarcely persuade her to pass a 
few closes by and to continue past the old 
Canongate Tolbooth, or prison, until they came 
to John Knox's house, which, jutting out into 
the High Street, is a conspicuous landmark. 

** Don't you remember how, when Roland 
Graeme in ' The Abbot ' came to Edinburgh, 
he rode down this same street? " Barbara was 
saying. " He was so very excited by the 
crowds and the fighting and the gorgeous noble- 
men with their followers, who would not move 
an inch out of their paths in the middle of the 
street (' the crown of the causeway,' you know), 
no matter whom they met, that Adam Woodcock 
could hardly drag him along to the palace." 

^ ' Oh, I wish I could have seen High Street in 
those days! " sighed Betty; '' tell us how it 
looked, please, Mrs. Pitt." 

** Well, then, its houses were all like John 
Knox's here, high and gabled and quaint, and 
many of the lower stories were given over to 
shops, or booths, displaying goods on the sid^ 
walks. All fashionable merchants had their 
shops in the High Street. Many houses had 
balconies, which served the merchants as roofs 
for their shops; outside stairways often led to 
those balconies, and underneath were pig-styes. 



i8o JOHN AND BETTY'S 

from wMch the pigs could run out to the open 
sewers, dug at each side of the street. There 
was great danger of fire, of course, and the 
magistrates used to make trips of inspection up 
and down the High Street to see that the piles 
of peat and straw were not stacked too near the 
houses. Lights were at the entrances to all 
closes, and merchants were required to hang 
lanterns in front of their booths. People were 
expected to be in their houses by ten o'clock 
at night, or, if they had business outside, to 
carry a ' bowet,' or small lantern. Nobody 
wished to go out in the evening, however ; it was 
far too dangerous an undertaking, for, besides 
the thieves and tipsy men who might do one 
harm, any one could throw his refuse out of 
his windows after a certain hour. Fancy ! As 
a signal, a man would cry out, * Get oot o' the 
gate ! ' or * Gardy loo ! ', which latter was prob- 
ably from the French, gardez Veau, 

'* It almost makes one wonder how people 
dared to venture out into such confusion and 
filth, even in broad daylight. But the streets 
were thronged with a crowd as magnificently 
dressed as any to be seen in Elizabethan Lon- 
don. There were soldiers and serving-men in 
their uniforms, nobles in their velvet clothes 
and bonnets with long feathers, and even dainty 
ladies lifting their silken skirts high, preceded 
by gentlemen ushers to clear the way for 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT i8i 

them. Why, at one time people became so ex- 
travagant in their dress that a law had to be 
made bidding men see to it that their wives 
and daughters did not overdress for their re- 
spective positions in society. It's hard to un- 
derstand how mi-lady in all her sweeping finery 
could enter the little shops at all, they were so 
tiny. 

*^ Near St. Giles' Cathedral, in Parliament 
Square, which was the Princes Street of the 
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and 
where all the goldsmiths had their booths, was 
one, only seven feet square, belonging to George 
Heriot, or ^Jingling Geordie,' jeweler to James 
VI." 

*^ But it wasn't too small for the King to go 
in," put in Barbara. ^* Don't you remember 
that James and Heriot were great friends, and 
how the goldsmith invited the King to come to 
his shop and sit before the costliest fire he had 
ever seen? And it was, too, because he burned 
up some notes which stood for much money 
that the King owed him. ' ' 

Then they went into the old-time book, print, 
and souvenir shop which Mr. Hay now keeps in 
the basement of John Knox's house, just where 
there was a pretty jeweler's shop even when 
the stern, disapproving preacher lived above. 
After exploring its dark nooks and corners, and 
purchasing some postcards, a book or two, a 



i82 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

portrait of Mary, and a quaint '^ tirling pin," 
or ancient Scottish substitute for knocker, they 
mounted the spiral stairs at the back of the 
shop, with kind Mrs. Hay acting as guide. 

" Why, people could almost live here now! " 
exclaimed Betty, ''' even if it is so old and 
hasn't changed much since John Knox was 
here! '' 

Mrs. Hay laughed. *' People do live here," 
she said ; ^ * we do. I often sit in here with my 
sewing of a morning when it's not busy in the 
shop below. This was Knox's little study; 
here's his old chair, and from this bit of a 
window, overhanging the street, he would some- 
times address the people. Just step in here, 
Mrs. Pitt; you've a fine view up the High 
Street towards the Lawnmarket." 

Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Hay live in the very 
top of the old house, and are wise enough not 
to disturb John Knox's bedroom, and his dining- 
room, with its blackened, carved old paneling 
exactly as it was when the reformer dined here 
in much state. (He was very fond of French 
wines, although he so strongly disapproved of 
his Queen's fondness for French religion and 
customs.) In fact, this house helps delightfully 
to picture the daily life of this stern old church- 
man, who, sure of his convictions, made the life 
of Catholic Queen Mary a burden by his in- 
sistent attempts to convert her. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT i8^. 



Next they entered Parliament Square, where 
Heriot's jewelry shop had once stood, and there 
noticed the site of the ' ' Heart of Midlothian, ' ' 
or Toibooth, erected by James II about 1450, 
and serving many uses, the last and most fa- 
mous being that of prison for the City of Edin- 
burgh. One whole side of the square is taken 
up by the old Parliament House, now occupied 
by government offices and the Courts of Session, 
the haunt of gowned and wigged advocates, or 
lawyers. 

^^ What's this! '' inquired John, kicking a 
little brass plate in the center of the pavement. 
The plate bears the initials * ^ I.K. ' ' and the date 
1572. 

^* Stop kicking it, John," remarked his sis- 
ter suddenly. ^' I think it's John Knox'iS 
grave. Why was he buried here in the square, 
Mrs. Pitt! " 

As they walked around the back of the 
cathedral, towards the celebrated Mercat Cross, 
Mrs. Pitt explained that a churchyard formerly 
covered all the ground now occupied by the 
Parliament House and Square, and that all the 
tombs have quite vanished. There is now only 
this tiny mark in the pavement to indicate the 
supposed resting-place of one of Scotland's 
most famous men. 

They were all curious about the Mercat Cross. 
Did Mercat mean market! What was the cross 



1 84 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

for? Why does part of it look old and part 
new? Mrs. Pitt had much to explain. 

** It is partly new and partly old," said she. 
^ * This eight-sided tower was built by Mr. Glad- 
stone in imitation of the ancient tower, which 
was long ago removed because it blocked the 
traffic ; that slender pillar rising from it is part 
of the original market cross which was once in 
St. Giles' churchyard, just as was John Knox's 
grave. Business was carried on in this church- 
yard, you know, and at the foot of this cross 
were sold * pietricks, pluvars, capones, chekins, 
and all other wyld foulis, and tame.' Execu- 
tions were held at the cross, and royal feasts, 
the king and nobles seated up on the tower, 
with the common people at its foot; here 
a border riever would be * put to the horn,' or 
declared an outlaw, because of his daring and 
bloody deeds, and from here all proclamations 
were made. Even now kings are proclaimed 
from the old Mercat Cross, and the Eoyal Scots 
from the castle have a part in the picturesque 
ceremony. Does anybody remember a poem in 
which the cross is introduced, I wonder? " 

** Yes, yes, I know! " cried Betty. *' It's in 
Scott's ' Marmion '! " 

An old legend declared that a few nights be- 
fore James IV and his army set out for their 
English invasion, in which there occurred the 
terrible defeat at Flodden Field, a mysterious 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 185 

herald mounted the cross and read a long list 
of names of those in the army whom he sum- 
moned to meet him in an unknown world within 
forty days. One man, hearing his own name 
called, had presence of mind to say promptly, 
** I appeal from that summons and sentence, 
and take me to the mercy of God.'' Of all the 
doomed men, he alone was alive after the battle. 
Mrs. Pitt quoted for them part of an old 
ballad by Professor Aytoun, which here de- 
scribes the ending of the battle: 

" * No one failed him — he is keeping 

Royal state and semblance still; 
Knight and noble lie around him 

Cold on Flodden's fatal hill. 
Of the brave and gallant-hearted 

Whom ye sent with prayers away, 
Not a single man departed 

From his Monarch yesterday. 

"'Had ye seen them, my Masters, 
When the night began to fall, 
And the English spearmen gathered 
Round a grim and ghastly wall! 

*'*But a rampart rose before them 

Which the boldest dared not scale; 
Every stone a Scottish body, 

Every step a corpse in mail! 
And behind it lay our Monarch 

Clenching still his shivered sword; 
By his side Montrose and Athole, 

At his feet a Southron lord.' " 



186 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

Quietly they entered St. Giles' Cathedral, 
stirred by the atmosphere of terror in the 
ballad, all but the irrepressible John, who would 
persist in asking whether '' that fellow, the 
herald, had any head." 

The first edifice on the site of St. Giles' was 
erected in 854, but it was pulled down by a son 
of Queen Margaret Canmore, who built another 
in its place. 

*^ Since then the church has undergone in- 
numerable changes," said Mrs. Pitt, as they sat 
down for a moment to put themselves in tune 
with the stately, grim, history-laden old place. 
^^ It was burned in the time of Richard II, but 
was rebuilt and grew gradually larger and more 
beautiful. When a man wished to show his 
gratitude for any blessing, he would build an 
aisle or a chapel or a lovely window. At the 
time of the Reformation, the windows were 
smashed and the carvings broken away, but the 
building itself remained. At one time, when 
more parish churches were required, St. Giles' 
was actually divided into several parts, each 
one being used as a separate church; it's no 
wonder, then, that its present shape and ar- 
rangement are unusual." 

As they strolled about, they saw the Chepman 
Aisle, near the Royal Pew, built by Walter 
Chepman, who introduced printing into Scot- 
land; and the Albany Aisle, built as atonement 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 187 

for his evil deeds by the wicked Duke of Al- 
bany, who in 1402 killed his nephew, David, 
Dnke of Rothesay. 

^* I always wonder whether their consciences 
felt any easier afterwards," reflected Mrs. 
Pitt. 

In the Moray Aisle lies the '' Good Regent 
Moray,'' he who ruled in place of the baby 
James VI, after his mother, Mary Stuart, had 
been dethroned. He was much beloved by the 
people, but he, as all men of power, had ene- 
mies, and one of them murdered him at Lin- 
lithgow. John Knox preached the sermon at his 
funeral in St. Griles' Cathedral. Close by are 
the tombs of the ^^ Great Marquis of Montrose " 
and the '^ Great Marquis of Argyll," men who 
took opposite sides, Montrose being an Episco- 
palian and a stanch Royalist, and Argyll 
a Presbyterian and a loyal follower of Crom- 
well. To see them lying quietly so near to- 
gether puts one in mind of the similar tombs 
of Mary Stuart and of Queen Elizabeth, 
just opposite one another in Westminster 
Abbey. 

In a talk with one of the vergers, John learned 
that the old bell of St. Giles', which came from 
Flanders several hundred years ago, still chimes 
the hours and rings for the daily service 
at three-thirty o'clock. In obedience to an 
old, old law, the bell was sounded in case of 



i88 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

any danger, and every able-bodied man was 
bound to meet his townsmen at the Mercat 
Cross. 

** Oh, here's something about Jenny Ged- 
des ! ' ' exclaimed Betty, stopping before a brass 
plate on one of the ancient pillars. ^^ I'd al- 
most forgotten about her; there's so much 
else! " 

*^ Jenny Geddes was only a cabbage-woman, 
who had her stall near the cathedral, but hers 
is a famous name in history. ' ' 

<< Why? " interrupted John. ^' Were her 
cabbages extra good? " 

** The people were accustomed to using a 
prayer-book which John Knox had written," 
continued Mrs. Pitt, ** but in the reign of 
Charles I, Dean Hanna received orders to read 
the Church of England service. This caused 
great excitement and indignation, you must 
know, and the good Dean had not gone far with 
his service before the cabbage-woman started a 
riot by picking up her stool, which, like other 
worshippers, she had brought with her, and 
throwing it at the Dean. With much difficulty 
he escaped to his own house, but no one ever 
again dared attempt the reading of the English 
service at St. Griles'." 

They stood long before the exquisite bronze 
tablet to the memory of Robert Louis Steven- 
son, who is shown half-reclining in his chair, 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 189 

pencil and pad in hand. Underneath are the 
lines of one of his own beautiful prayers. 

^^ We must step into the Thistle Chapel be- 
fore we go," said Mrs. Pitt, leading the way 
towards a little addition which had recently 
been opened. 

Very rich it is in the fine grain of its oak 
paneling, its exquisite carvings, and its bright- 
colored, enameled insignia and crests, which, 
with their accompanying swords, mark the stall 
of each knight of the ancient Order of the 
Thistle. The Royal stall, with one on the left 
for the Duke of Connaught, and one on the right 
for the Prince of Wales, when he comes of age, 
were pointed out, as well as a stall opposite, 
where the King sits to invest new members. 

** It's very wonderful," said Betty, as they 
again left the Thistle Chapel for the cathedral 
proper, '^ but I like it better in here where it's 
all shadowy and old, and where things have hap- 
pened! " 

Betty's cry was always for a place where 
** things had happened." Her brother began 
to fear they should never again persuade her 
to live in a house which could not boast a his- 
tory begun at least five hundred years ago. 



CHAPTEE TWELVE 

EDINBUEGH ODDS AND ENDS 

*^ Wheke are the boys! '' asked Betty, coming 
into Mrs. Pitt's sunny room one Sunday after- 
noon to ask that lady's advice about the postage 
on an unusually bulky letter. 

^^ They went off on an expedition; they're 
searching for something interesting, but they 
wouldn't tell what it is, or let me help them," 
Mrs. Pitt answered absently, for she was just 
then poring over the timetables in '^ Brad- 
shaw," that altogether exasperating but indis- 
pensable traveler's companion. 

It was past tea-time when Philip and John 
appeared at the hotel, tired and hot, but tri- 
umphant. 

'' I say! We found it. Mother, but it's not 
half as jolly as we expected," said Philip, drop- 
ping into a chair and taking the cup of tea his 
sister held out to him. 

But before they learned any more about the 
mysterious discovery, they were forced to listen 
to a long account of the boys' tramp. 

^' Out on Princes Street here we ran into a 
190 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 191 

lot of soldiers coming home from camp," re- 
marked John, his month fnll of bread and but- 
ter, of which the waiter had just brought in a 
fresh supply. '^ They were pulling their gun- 
carriages along the pavement in this sun, and 
perhaps they didn't look hot! Whew! We 
saw more starting off to camp, too; they didn't 
have on their plaids at all, just stupid yellow 
khaki suits and guns over their shoulders." 

^^ A little farther down," began Philip, tak- 
ing up the story, " we saw the queerest pro- 
cession of big trucks loaded with stuff to set up 
a fair somewhere; the whole thing was pulled 
along by a steam engine that made no end of a 
nasty racket! " 

'' Then we dodged a crowd of boy scouts, 
blowing bugles and pounding on drums to beat 
the band! " It was John who was talking once 
again. ^ ^ After that we went down into Princes 
Street Gardens, where there was even a bigger 
crowd than a week ago. We crossed the tracks 
by a bridge and hustled all over that side of the 
rock, and it's mighty steep, too. We bumped 
into some kind of a ruin which we thought was 
going to be it, but a bobby told us it's the Well- 
house Tower, oldest ruin in Edinburgh, sup- 
plied water for the castle once. Well, there are 
bully views from there, and shady walks and 
trees, but we couldn't find it/' 

^^ Then we went up to the castle again, and I 



192 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

asked that jolly old guide where it is. WeVe 
asked him half a dozen times already, you know, 
Mother, but he told us all over again, so we 
walked 'round and 'round this north side of the 
rock till we finally discovered it. It's so little 
that a fellow could look and look and never see 
it, but now it stands out just as clear ! " 

*^ We'll show it to you to-morrow," declared 
John condescendingly. ^' It's Queen Mar- 
garet's little door, ' sally-port,' they call it. 
The monk carried her body out of it when 
Donald Bane was besieging and the fog came 
up." 

Mrs. Pitt smiled when the secret was thus di- 
vulged. Betty rose and went to the window. 
Her eyes had not been roving long over the 
sides of the black rock before she exclaimed in 
high glee, " I thought so ! You silly, silly boys ! 
I can see it from this very window, just as plain ! 
Come here, John ! Look ! ' ' 

'^ If you boys had told me what you were 
looking for, I could have saved you the long 
tramp," said Mrs. Pitt, seeing the boys' con- 
fusion. 

'' We don't care, anyhow," they insisted. 
'^ We had a jolly walk, and we found it by our- 
selves! " 

The next morning they all skirted the north 
side of the rock, under the little '' sally-port "in 
the outer castle walls, and followed the street, 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 193 

called quaintly '* King^s Stables Road," until 
it brought them into the Grrassmarket. This 
wide, open space, still boasting a few ancient 
buildings, lies close under the castle rock. They 
looked at the mark in the pavement showing 
where the gallows stood, the gallows which were 
always set up during the night and vanished 
also under cover of darkness; they glanced up 
the winding, narrow street called the West Bow, 
leading to the Lawnmarket, just below the 
castle esplanade; then they gingerly made 
their way up the Vennel, a filthy, steep passage 
built in wide steps, which leads from the Grass- 
market up past Heriot's Hospital to Lauriston 
Place. Dingy tenements line the way, swarm- 
ing with children who stare curiously at all 
strangers. 

*^ What's this! " asked Betty, as they came 
upon a bit of old wall. ^ * It looks, somehow, as 
if it has a history." 

* * And indeed it has, ' ' replied Mrs. Pitt, paus- 
ing to look back across the Grassmarket to the 
castle; ^' it's the Flodden Wall, Betty, part of 
the old city wall. Do you notice how very rough 
and poorly made it is? That's because it was 
built in great haste by unskilled workmen, by 
women and children, some believe, at the time 
of the battle of Flodden Field, when those liv- 
ing outside the city walls feared an attack by the 
English. But it was not needed, for the wall 



194 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

had been erected less than one hundred years 
when peace was declared, James went to Lon- 
don, and England and Scotland were united. ' ' 

They entered the grounds of George Heriot's 
Hospital from the rear, passing by a new build- 
ing to be used in connection with the original 
school, completed in 1659. Passing through an 
old gateway, they stepped into the great 
quadrangle. 

The keeper, so surprised at their boldness, 
forgot to ask them for their permits, and meekly 
showed them about, giving them all the informa- 
tion at his disposal. 

^^ Thought it was a place for sick people, '^ 
whispered John to his sister. *' First time I 
knew that a hospital meant a school. ^ ' 

The founder was George Heriot, goldsmith 
to Anne of Denmark, and afterwards to James 
VI, their guide informed them. Heriot had no 
children, so, at his death, his entire fortune went 
to found this school ' ' for the education and up- 
bringing of poor orphans and fatherless chil- 
dren of decayed burgesses and freemen of the 
burgh of Edinburgh. ' ' The Heriot fortune was 
so well invested that to-day the school owns 
'' about three-thirds of Edinburgh,'' so the 
guide proudly remarked. (Obviously his frac- 
tions were just a wee bit confused.) Originally 
the boys boarded at the school, but now the fine 
old building of brownish stone is used only for 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 195 

lecture-rooms. To-day the pupils are from 
eight to twenty-two years of age, and there are 
eleven hundred of them. Heriot's Hospital has 
continued to prosper. 

The building is square and four-storied, built 
around a large court; it has quaint turrets, a 
high clock-tower in the center of one side, and 
two hundred and eighty windows, of which only 
two bear the same carved device. The whole 
building displays much elaborate carving, in 
which the initials of the founder often appear. 
The court has a sundial on each of its walls 
except that facing the north. Its pavement is 
flagged. 

^' Do ye ken what ye^re standing on? " the 
caretaker inquired of John, pointing to some 
faint lines and figures on the flagstones. At 
one time every boy had a little square marked 
with a number, and here each must stand be- 
fore lining up to go into chapel in the morning. 

* ' Wasn 't that a good idea ! ' ' cried the de- 
lighted Betty. ^* Too bad the lines are nearly 
rubbed out now. But then, there wouldn't be 
enough to go around, would there! '' 

Visitors are not permitted in the classrooms, 
it seems, but the guide showed them the chapel 
and the handsome Council Room, paneled with 
oak in perfect condition, and having beautifully 
carved doors, high-backed chairs, and a fine 
chimney-piece. 



196 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

*^ It's a nice old place, all right/' said John, 
after they had bade farewell to the old care- 
taker, and were walking down the wide, stately- 
path to the front gate, ^^ but I can't imagine a 
fellow really going to school in it. ' ' 

^* Heriot's foundation is very famous, John, 
though, of course, it's not as old as the Eoyal 
High School, founded eight hundred years ago 
by the Holyrood monks." They were going 
along Lauriston Place on their walk towards 
Greyfriars Church, as Mrs. Pitt spoke. ^* The 
monks meant only to educate those boys who 
sang for them at mass, but the school became 
very popular, and others wished to attend. 
You can understand why a good school was 
needed when you know that in the time of 
James IV certain men were fined if they did not 
send their eldest sons to learn Latin, all laws 
being written in that tongue. After the Refor- 
mation, when the monasteries were broken up, 
the clergy and the Town Council took charge of 
the school. The boys studied in many different 
buildings, until the fine new one, at the foot of 
the Calton Hill, was built in 1829." 

'^ I say, didn't King Edward go to school in 
Edinburgh, Mother? " 

^' He came to live at Holyrood Palace to study 
with Dr. Schmetz, then headmaster of the Royal 
High School. That isn't just like going to 
school there, of course. I only wish I had time 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 197 

to tell you some of the odd customs of those 
High School boys/' his mother rambled on; 
^^ they're so delightful! Once every summer 
they were allowed to go out into the fields to 
cut the * bent,' or dry grass,- with which the 
school floors were strewn in winter to keep the 
feet warm. Every Candlemas, the second day 
of February, each boy brought the master his 
' Bleis-silver,' — a present of a sum of money. 
At first the money was intended to be used for 
buying the candles which blazed in the churches 
at this festival. One of the boys' favorite 
pranks was ^ barring-out ' the masters, block- 
ing up doors and windows, and refusing to let 
them in until an extra holiday was promised. I 
could go on indefinitely," Mrs. Pitt laughed, 
^^ but here we are at Greyfriars Church! " 

The churchyard surrounding the Old and New 
Greyfriars Churches is by far the most ancient 
in the city. Once the Greyfriars Monastery and 
gardens covered all the ground as far as the 
Heriot Hospital. At the Eeformation this 
monastery, founded by James I for the increase 
of learning and culture, was reduced to an al- 
most total ruin; in 1562 the Town Council, 
by permission of Queen Mary, converted it 
into a burial-ground. In 1612, Old Greyfriars 
Church was erected, and a little more than one 
hundred years later, the congregation having 
increased, New Greyfriars was added. The long 



198 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

structure has always been and is now divided 
into two chnrches. Very black and gloomy it 
looks on a cloudy day, and equally depressing 
are the many crumbling stones and elaborate 
tombs. 

^^ It's a terribly solemn place," said Betty, 
as tliey glanced down a long path lined by for- 
bidding monuments. 

Appreciating the children's point of view, 
Mrs. Pitt quickly showed them a few of the 
celebrated graves: those of George Buchanan, 
Scotland 's great scholar ; of Allan Ramsay, the 
poet; of George Heriot, father of the founder 
of the Hospital : and told them of a few of the 
famous lawyers, magistrates, Lords President 
of the Supreme Court of Scotland, Lords of Ses- 
sion, and other famous folk who lie there. She 
pointed out the corner of the churchyard where 
the Covenanters were imprisoned, and where so 
many of them perished from exposure, the stone 
on which the great Covenant was signed, and 
the Martyrs ' Monument. 

*' The Covenanters were people who didn't 
like our English Church service, weren't they, 
Mother? " 

'^ Yes, Barbara, the Covenanters wanted the 
right to worship in their own way, as they had 
done ever since the Reformation. Because they 
would not obey the orders sent north by Charles 
I, they were terribly persecuted, and peace was 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 199 

not restored until 1689, in the reign of William 
and Mary. The Covenanters were imprisoned, 
put to death, and treated with the utmost cru- 
elty; they fled to the country, and held church 
services in the open air. Even on the hillsides 
they were always armed, for at any moment 
they were liable to be discovered. There are 
horrible tales of the sufferings of women and 
children and of the Covenanting ministers, who 
were not allowed to go near their homes. 
About eighteen hundred people are said to have 
suffered death, banishment, or imprisonment 
during the long years that these religious wars 
lasted. To the memory of these people this 
Martyrs' Monument was erected." 

^^ But what about the Covenant that they 
signed on this stone ? ' ' asked Betty. 

'* In February, 1638, a great multitude gath- 
ered in this churchyard,'' replied Mrs. Pitt, 
*^ and listened to an address in regard to the 
preservation of their own religion and their 
duty to God and country; and when the Cov- 
enant, or statement of the people's religious 
convictions, was displayed, all were eager to 
sign their names to it. Some are said to have 
written their names in blood. Copies of the 
Covenant were sent all over the country, and 
very soon almost every one had signed. 

^' Before we go, I'll give you one more story 
about this old churchyard," she continued, 



200 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

* ' this time a far more pleasant one. Here was 
the scene of Sir Walter Scott's first romance. 
One Sunday it began to rain during church 
service, and Scott offered his umbrella to Mar- 
garet, daughter of Sir John and Lady Jane 
Stewart of Fettercairn and Invermay. The 
young lady accepted the proffer of the um- 
brella and the escort of Walter Scott. For 
several years he hoped to win her, but at last 
he saw her married to another. ' ' 

* * Look at that bully fountain with the statue 
of a Skye terrier ! ' ' exclaimed John, as they left 
the churchyard and went towards George IV 
Bridge. 

** I know all about that,'' Barbara said; *' it's 
dear little ^ Greyf riars Bobby ' ! His master, a 
poor man, died and was buried in Greyfriars 
Churchyard ; Bobby was the only one who went 
to the funeral. Dogs were not allowed in the 
churchyard, but this one managed to find a 
way in, and spent all his time stretched on his 
master's grave. The caretaker tried for a long 
time to drive him out, but he couldn't, so finally 
he let him sleep in his own house, and gave him 
food. Every day for years the dog was there 
by the grave, and everybody knew about ^ Grey- 
friars Bobby.' When he died, the Baroness 
Burdett-Coutts, who lives in London, you know, 
built this fountain." 

Before their luncheon they walked past the 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 201 

old University, on the site of the Kirk o' Field, 
where Darnley was murdered. Close by is 
Guthrie Street, once College Wynd, where 
Walter Scott was born in Au^st, 1771. On 
their way to the Antiquarian Museum, in 
Queen Street, after luncheon and a short shop- 
ping expedition, they saw another residence of 
Soott^s in Castle Street, his Edinburgh ** work- 
shop, ' ' where much of his writing was done. 

As they went along, they were still laughing 
at an adventure of Betty *s, — Betty, whose love 
of antiquities sometimes led her into amusing 
predicaments. In search of a souvenir of Edin- 
burgh to send home for her mother's birthday, 
Betty had halted long before a shop window 
in Princes Street. Close to the window-pane 
she espied a quaint silver drinking-cup, with two 
little handles and a shallow bowl, marked with 
a crest and a date. 

*^ I think Mother would love that," thought 
Betty; ^' she likes old things, too," and into the 
shop she slipped, unobserved by Mrs. Pitt and 
the others. 

When questioned, the pompous clerk looked 
startled and said hastily, ** But that's an old 
one, you know. ' ' 

*^ Yes," said Betty placidly; *^ that's why I 
like it." 

**But it's an antique, you see; it's a quaich, 
or Highland drinking-cup, which the chiefs used. 



202 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

Some of them had glass bottoms, so that peo- 
ple could detect poison and conld keep their 
eyes on a possible enemy while the drinking- 
cup was tipped. ' ' 

^^ How much is it! '^ Betty inquired sweetly. 

Eealizing that she really did not know their 
value, the clerk became very kind. He ex- 
plained to her that these quaichs are very rare, 
indeed, and bring a high price. ^^ That one in 
the window is twenty-nine pounds,'' said he; 
and, going to the safe, he brought out a still 
more valuable one, which he was confident of be- 
ing able to dispose of to a regular customer for 
forty pounds, two hundred dollars. He then 
showed some beautiful little copies which sell 
for one pound each, but even this was too much 
for Betty 's purse. Thanking the man, she left 
the shop without any package. 

The others wanted to know where she had 
been, so Betty, rather crestfallen, was obliged to 
explain. They were much amused, of course, 
and every little while John would burst out 
with, '' Ho ! ho! Mother sure would have liked 
your interesting, inexpensive little present! 
Too bad you didn't buy it, Betty! " 

The Antiquarian Museum is a comparatively 
new building, having been erected between 1890- 
1895, by Mr. J. R. Findlay, late proprietor of 
the famous newspaper, ^^ The Scotsman." 
Scotland's heroes and heroines, from prehis- 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 203 

toric to modern times, are pictured in a frieze 
about the hall; painted against a gold back- 
ground, these figures stand out clearly. 

Having looked until their necks could bear no 
more craning, Mrs. Pitt led them into the mu- 
seum, crowded with objects of great interest: 
among them, Jenny Geddes's folding-stool with 
the leather seat, the one which was thrown at 
Dean Hanna in St. Giles' Cathedral, and John 
Knox's pulpit. 

It soon became evident, however, that there 
was no use in trying to see everything; some- 
what wearily they boarded a tram for the hotel. 
It had been a very full day. 



CHAPTER THIRTEEN 

IN THE SCOTT COUNTRY 

^' I don't see the battlement where Lady 
Clare was walking the night she found the 
armor and met Ralph de Wilton. There don't 
seem to be any battlements any more ! ' ' Betty 
spoke regretfully, standing on the lawn in front 
of old Tantallon Castle and gazing up at its 
battered walls. 

'' No, Betty, the battlements certainly seem 
to have fallen, ' ' was Mrs. Pitt 's reply. ^ ' These 
old walls, extending like wings from either side 
of the twelfth-century keep, are only half of 
the original castle. Here, where we are stand- 
ing near the deep well, was the courtyard; the 
walls once surrounded it, stretching as far as 
the cliifs, the battlements overhanging the sea. 
You can still find ancient foundations. ' ' 

** I forget just who that fellow, Marmion, 
was," put in John, strolling up, open kodak in 
hand. '' Tell us about him, Betty.'' 

^* Do you mean you've forgotten the whole 
story? Oh, John! It's too long to tell it all 
now," his sister replied, always amazed and 
grieved at John's lapses of memory. 

204 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 205 

* ^ Marmion was an English knight, John, who 
had been sent by his king, Henry VIII, on an 
errand to King James IV of Scotland. You 
surely remember the great poem's telling of his 
travels north, how he stopped one night at 
Norham Castle and another at the inn at Gif- 
ford; it was there that he fought the phantom 
knight by moonlight." 

^' It was only De Wilton pretending he was 
the phantom knight, '^ corrected the accurate 
Barbara. 

** Yes, De Wilton was acting as Marmion 's 
guide, a Holy Palmer, you know; but in reality 
he was Marmion 's enemy, for the latter had 
succeeded in dishonoring De Wilton's knight- 
hood, and was even then pursuing his sweet- 
heart. Lady Clare, who had been told that her 
lover was dead. It was after he had been to 
Edinburgh, where he saw the ghostly messen- 
ger appear at the Mercat Cross, — when the 
names were read of those who would be killed 
at Flodden, you remember, — that Marmion 
came here to Tantallon Castle, which belonged 
to the Douglas family. Lady Clare and a party 
of Whitby nuns were traveling with Marmion, 
who had been ordered to escort them back to 
their cloister; but the ladies stayed behind in 
a nunnery at the town of North Berwick, while 
the Lady Clare was brought on to this castle 
with Marmion and the faithful De Wilton, who 



2o6 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

still wore the Palmer's cloak. As Betty was 
saying, Lady Clare came face to face with him 
on the battlements here; that very night De 
Wilton was re-knighted by the Douglas, an old 
friend to De Wilton's family, who understood 
well Marmion's treachery, and, as that false 
knight was killed at Flodden Field, all ended 
happily for the Lady Clare." 

^' Oh! " sighed Betty rapturously; ^' how 
could Scott have thought up such perfectly 
adorable stories! " 

^' He must have been to Tantallon Castle, 
Mother, ' ' said Barbara, taking a copy of ^ ^ Mar- 
mion " from her mother's handbag, the won- 
derful bag, which, like that of the mother in 
'' Swiss Family Eobinson," seemed always to 
contain anything which the occasion might de- 
mand. ^^ Just listen to this jolly passage! 



... Tantallon's dizzy steep 
Hung o'er the margin of the deep. 
Many a rude tower and rampart there 
Repell'd the insult of the air, 
Which, when the tempest vex'd the sky, 
Half breeze, half spray, came whistling by. 
Above the rest, a turret square 
Did o'er its Gothic entrance bear, 
Of sculpture rude, a stony shield; 
The Bloody Heart was in the Field, 
And in the chief three mullets stood. 
The cognizance of Douglas blood. 




"Many a rude tower and rampart there 
Repell'd the insult of the air."— Page 206. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 207 

The turret held a narrow stair, 

Which, mounted, gave you access where 

A parapet's embattled row 

Did seaward round the castle go. 

Sometimes in dizzy steps descending, 

Sometimes in narrow circuit bending. 

Sometimes in platform broad extending, 

Its varying circle did combine 

Bulwark, and bartisan, and line. 

And bastion, tower, and vantage-coign: 

Above the booming ocean leant 

The far-projecting battlement; 

The billows burst, in ceaseless flow, 

Upon the precipice below. 

Where'er Tantallon faced the land. 

Gate- works, and walls, were strongly mann'd ; 

No need upon the sea-girt side; 

The steepy rock, and frantic tide, 

Approach of human step denied; 

And thus these lines, and ramparts rude, 

Were left in deepest solitude.' " 

'' That is a lovely description of the Lady 
Clare's battlement! " approved Betty, as Bar- 
bara closed the book. 

'' What does that mean about the ' Bloody 
Heart in the Field "? " demanded John of his 
sister. 

^^ The Douglas shield had a bloody heart,'' 
was her reply, '' because it was a Douglas that 
the Bruce asked to carry his heart to the Holy 
Land, after he was dead, you know." 

They then carefully explored the ruins of 



208 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

Tantallon Castle, interesting enough in itself, 
even were it to be deprived of its associations 
with that favorite poem, " Marmion." There 
are keep and dungeon, watch-tower and guard- 
room, with enchanting views of the deep blue 
water of the German Ocean, of high cliffs cov- 
ered with fields of waving yellow grain, and of 
the steep, abrupt sides of celebrated Bass Rock, 
white with great sea-birds. 

At last they regretfully left by the entrance 
built by James V in front of the original draw- 
bridge gate, over which Marmion galloped to 
escape being made prisoner of the Douglas. It 
was the drawbridge referred to in the lines 
which follow those describing the quarrel be- 
tween Marmion and the Douglas, the proud 
Scotchman having drawn his cloak around him, 

"Folded his arms, and thus he spoke: — 

My castles are my King's alone, 
From turret to foundation-stone — 
The hand of Douglas is his own; 
And never shall in friendly grasp 
The hand of such as Marmion clasp. 

Lord Marmion turn'd, — ^well was his need, 
And dash'd the rowels in his steed, 
Like arrow through the archway sprung, 
The ponderous grate behind him rung : 
To pass there was such scanty room, 
The bars descending, razed his plume." 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 209 

The little girl with the long flaxen pigtails 
waited soberly to unlock the gate for them, and 
soberly she stood by while they climbed into the 
waiting motor car, scarcely even murmuring her 
thanks when a bright new sixpence dropped into 
her hand. Back they whirled to the town, pass- 
ing North Berwick Law, a pointed hill rising 
from the fields like a giant ant-hill, and fol- 
lowing the road along the cliffs, dotted by villas 
and small hotels. North Berwick is a charming 
place with attractive shops, many villas, hotels, 
and an excellent golf course close by the sea, 
like that of St. Andrews. After luncheon, a 
porter piled the suitcases brought from Edin- 
burgh in the center of a compartment, they all 
got in, filling the seats by the windows, and 
were soon off for Melrose. 

All the way their teeth crunched long sticks 
of candy in different colors, from a gay box 
marked ^' North Berwick Eock." This had 
been John's purchase. For many weeks he had 
been noticing that apparently every Scotch 
town, from Edinburgh down to a tiny place like 
Kirriemuir, manufactures ^* rock.'' 

* ^ Seems to be the only candy they have over 
here," thought John. ^* ^ Eock ' must be 
what's the matter with their teeth ! Mrs. Pitt's 
been telling us to notice what awful teeth they 
all have. I'm going to try it. It can't kill a 
fellow to eat it once ! ' ' 



210 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

To Ms surprise, Jolin found the candy soft 
and rather good. The others all accepted when 
he offered the box to them, and he was much 
gratified. '' Edinburgh Eock/' '' Dundee 
Kock," '' Oban Eock," they are all alike; the 
only difference is one of name. 

Such a long trip as it was! Over and over 
Mrs. Pitt told herself how very much wiser it 
would have been to have hired a motor car 
which could have quickly deposited them in Mel- 
rose; but, as it was, in order not to double on 
their tracks by returning to Edinburgh, they took 
a train which slowly made it sway down the coast 
to Berwick-on-Tweed, carrying them through 
Dunbar, scene of a famous battle at which 
Cromwell defeated the Covenanters in 1649. 
Here, also, Edward I conquered John Baliol, 
many years before. Having changed trains at 
Berwick-on-Tweed, they passed near old Nor- 
ham Castle which Marmion knew, and the battle- 
field at Flodden, the station for which is Cold- 
stream. 

**Are the Coldstream Guards named from 
this place 1 ' ' asked Philip. 

^' Yes, because here those famous Guards 
were organized by General Monk in 1660," his 
mother assented. 

Then they entered the Scott country. The 
fields were flooded with the late afternoon sun- 
shine. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 211 

'* Here's Kelso," said Mrs. Pitt by and by. 
** There's a very nice old abbey there. Close 
by is magnificent Floors Castle, belonging to 
the Duke of Eoxburghe ; he married an Ameri- 
can, you know, Mary Goelet. Only a little south 
from here is Yetholm, where there is a quaint 
gypsy settlement; and a bit west again is Jed- 
burgh, a very fine old border town which has its 
associations with Mary Stuart, Prince Charlie, 
Burns, Scott, and even Wordsworth. But I al- 
ways associate Jedburgh with my dear old poet, 
Walter Laidlaw, who for years was caretaker 
at the beautiful old abbey, founded in the 
twelfth century. I used to go there, wander 
in his rose-garden behind the abbey, and hear 
the old man talk by the hour. Such a Scotch 
tongue, such humor, such charm as he had ! He 
died last winter, they tell me, and I never want 
to see Jedburgh without him! '' 

*^ Where's Branxholme Towers?" inquired 
Betty presently. ' ' It comes in ' The Lay of the 
Last Minstrel,' you know. Isn't it near here 
somewhere? " 

" Yes, I've been there," Mrs. Pitt replied; 
'* it's near Hawick, a pretty old place which 
still belongs to the Buccleugh family as it did 
in the days of the poem. But, somehow, I was 
a bit disappointed in it, Betty; it's not a real 
castle now, more like a delightful old manor 
house." 



212 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

All this time they had been drawing nearer to 
Melrose, and suddenly Betty joyfully sighted 
the three Eildon Hills. 

^* There they are! '' she cried. ^^ Once they 
were just one hill, you know, but Michael Scott, 
the wizard, made them into three. '^ 

** And the Queen of the Fairies carried him 
away," put in Barbara, ^' to her kingdom in- 
side those hills, — oh, no ! that was Thomas the 
Rhymer! '' 

*'Who knew that King Arthur and his 
knights are supposed to be buried underneath 
the Eildon Hills? '' asked Mrs. Pitt; but no one 
answered, for just then they pulled into Mel- 
rose. Leaving their suitcases with the hotel 
porter, they walked through the village square 
with its ancient cross, and along the narrow 
little streets until they reached the Abbey Hotel, 
close up against the abbey walls. 

Mrs. Pitt knew the delightful landlady, with 
her rustling black silk, and very rosy cheeks 
beneath her crisp white cap, — ' * just like a 
book," as Betty said, — and she induced her to 
have their tea prepared immediately. This 
meal being finished, they bought tickets of ad- 
mission at the thatched house opposite the 
hotel, the gates were opened for them, and they 
saw Melrose Abbey, by twilight, if not by moon- 
light. 

Widely known as the most beautiful of Scot- 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 213 

tish ruins, it must, indeed, be seldom that there 
comes a visitor who fails to fall under the spell 
of this beauty, — beauty expressed in every 
smallest detail of roof, of window tracery, of 
pillar, and of elaborate carving. One marvels 
at it ; one wanders about inside the choir which 
is practically all that now remains, discern- 
ing possibly an exquisite bit of carving one has 
never seen before. Referring to the flowers 
which grew in the monks' garden, Scott wrote, 

"Nor herb nor floweret glistened there, 
But was carved in the cloister-arches as fair." 

One never tires of loitering outside, among the 
graves, gazing up at the marvelous grace of the 
window in the south transept. Surely the peo- 
ple of olden times knew well how to build! 
Some one has said of Melrose, — ** architec- 
turally it is perfect.'* 

Meanwhile John had found the tombs of 
Alexander II and of Michael Scott, and a stone 
marking the spot where was buried the heart of 
the Bruce. 

*^ This is where Deloraine, in ^ The Lay of 
the Last Minstrel,' came when he opened 
Michael Scott's grave and took out — ^what was 
it called, Mrs. Pitt— that book of his? " 

^^ His ' Spaebook,' Betty. It was full of the 
magic which Sir Michael had learned from the 



214 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

Moors in Spain. It was also called the * Book 
of Might,' and one thing it taught was how to 
make ropes of sand. Thomas of Ercildoune, or 
Thomas the Ehymer,- — the same who was car- 
ried off by the Queen of the Fairies and had 
the gift of prophecy, — also took this book from 
Michael Scott's grave, and, with it in his pos- 
session, went to Hermitage Castle in company 
with Bold Walter of Buccleugh, who was try- 
ing to rescue his brother from the cruel Lord 
Soulis. They made a rope of sifted sand, ac- 
cording to directions given in the * Book of 
Might,' but this did not overcome Lord Soulis, 
who finally had to be wrapped in lead and boiled 
in a great caldron. That's the correct treat- 
ment for a wizard ; remember that, John, in case 
you some day come across one! By the way, 
the caldron still stands on the Skelf-hill as a 
warning to evildoers. 

*' You must know," Mrs. Pitt presently con- 
tinued, '^ that Michael Scott's fame was, and 
still is, as great in the Highlands as here in 
the Lowlands. Sir Michael could make the devil 
obey him. The people of a certain district were 
once much confused as to the day on which 
Shrovetide was to be celebrated, and every year 
they had to send to the Pope to find out. Fi- 
nally they decided to ask Michael to ^ get word 
without a second telling.' Accordingly Michael 
called the devil to him, converted him into a 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 215 

black horse, and forced him to carry him all the 
way. They traveled at such a height that there 
was snow on Michael's hat when he called upon 
the Pope. Still unwillingly, the devil carried 
Michael home with the desired answer,— that 
Shrovetide was ' the first Tuesday of the spring 
light,' or the first Tuesday of the new spring 
moon. Splendid adventures did Michael have 
with the devil, but in the end he almost fell his 
prey, — and you'll do well to remember that, 
all of you ! ' ' laughed Mrs. Pitt, as she rose to 
go in. ^' Michael, when on his deathbed, told 
his friends to put his body on a hillock towards 
which three doves and three ravens would be 
seen to fly. If the ravens reached the body 
first, it was to be burned ; if the doves were first, 
it was to be given Christian burial. The ravens 
were ahead, but they flew beyond the mark, so 
Michael was decently buried." 

Mrs. Pitt went to order a motor car for the 
morning, and the others soon followed, as clos- 
ing time at the abbey had come. Betty's bed- 
room window overlooked the ruin, and by it she 
lingered some minutes before getting into bed. 
There was no moon, but the stars were bright, 
and now and then the flicker from a lantern or 
from a candle in some room of the hotel fell 
upon a bit of the old abbey, making that par- 
ticular carved face or flower stand out for a 
second against the darkness. 



CHAPTEE FOURTEEN 

ABBOTSFORD AND DRYBUKGH 

^' Ay, you may have the motor for the very 
same price as the horses," the old landlady 
was assuring Mrs. Pitt. ^^ We've had that 
many tourists this week, my horses are quite 
worn out, and I'd sooner have you take the 
motor, which can't get tired, you know. The 
price is reasonable enough in any case." And 
Mrs. Pitt knew that it was. 

** Bully! " cried John, when he heard of the 
change in plan. ' ' We '11 do it in half the time ! ' ' 

As soon as Barbara had brought down her 
mother's motor-veil and pongee dust-coat, they 
were off in the gayest of spirits. Not since 
leaving London had they ridden in such a grand 
motor car ! Their pride had a slight fall when 
some accident befell the engine of the landaulet 
and, leaving them stranded by the roadside, the 
chauffeur had to walk back for another car ; but 
in the red touring car which he brought, they 
finally arrived at Abbot sf or d. 

^ ^ What a funny little back way we go in ! " 
said Betty, going ahead along the steep path 

216 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 217 

which runs from the road, past some formal, 
walled-in gardens, to a small door near the 
kitchens of the beautiful house, for many years 
Sir Walter Scott's beloved home. 

^^ Abbotsford is associated with some of the 
brightest as well as the darkest years of Scott's 
life,'' said Mrs. Pitt. They were now waiting, 
with a number of others, in the entry, until the 
guide should finish with an earlier party he 
was showing through the house. ^' When 
Scott was thirty-four and was living with his 
wife and ^ve children at Ashestiel, not far from 
here, he wrote ^ The Lay of the Last Minstrel ' 
which made his reputation. * Marmion ' and 
^ The Lady of the Lake ' soon followed, and it 
was then that Scott bought this land at Abbots- 
ford and built the fine house. Here he had a 
very happy life with his family, his friends, and 
his pets. He had two dogs, ^ Maida,' a stag- 
hound, and ' Camp,' a terrier, who were always 
with him. It is said that Maida grew so tired 
of publicity that she would calmly leave the 
spot when any one appeared with a sketch- 
book. Scott was very fond of his horses, too, 
and never allowed them to be taken out on Sun- 
day. His steward, Willie Laidlaw, and Tom 
Purdie, his forester, were also his devoted 
friends; he became rich and famous. George 
IV made him a baronet in 1820. 

*' But, later on there was a panic, during 



2i8 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

which his publishers failed and Scott lost every- 
thing. The rest of his life was one pitiable 
struggle to make enough money to pay his 
creditors. Lady Scott died at Abbotsford, and 
then Tom Purdie died very suddenly; Scott's 
little grandson, John Hugh Lockhart, (whom he 
calls ' Little John ' in ' Tales of a Grand- 
father '), was pronounced incurable. Scott him- 
self had a severe illness, but pluckily went on 
with his work, his creditors showing their grati- 
tude for his efforts by giving him back most of 
his possessions and allowing him to live here. 
But gradually the poor man's mind failed, and 
soon he could no longer write. It was sad, very 
sad. His son and daughter took him to Italy, 
but he begged to be brought home to Abbots- 
ford, where he died.'' 

No sooner had Mrs. Pitt finished than the 
door opened and out poured a company of en- 
thusiastic, chattering tourists, of whose con- 
versation they caught bits here and there. 

'^ That fat woman would stand right in my 
way, and I couldn't see one thing in the round 
case hj the window! " This from a brisk little 
woman with short skirts, a business-like air, and 
sharp gray eyes peering through their spec- 
tacles. 

^' Mean old thing! He wouldn't let me take 
a snapshot of the hall with all that dandy 
armor ! ' ' cried a loud-voiced American girl, her 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 219 

arm through that of a showily-dressed friend. 

'^ Pas moil Jamais! " A round Frenchman 
and his stouter wife swept haughtily past the 
meek guide, who was standing by the door to 
collect his tips from any one who felt sufficient 
gratitude to make a return for his efforts. 

Suddenly they all flocked back to their 
coaches on the road above, and the guide, with 
a resigned air, once more led the way upstairs, 
Mrs. Pitt and the others following. 

^^ This, ladies and gentlemen, was Scott's 
study where he wrote. See? That's his own 
desk and chair, the desk made from wood 
of one of the ships of the Spanish Armada. 
Ay, all his books that he worked with are up 
there on the balcony running around the room ; 
there's a small staircase to reach it. See? In 
the corner of the balcony, there is a private door 
which led into Scott's bedroom. He could get 
in and out with no one knowing it. See? In 
this little anteroom here, Scott received any 
casual visitors, you might say. It's called 
' Speak a bit.' See? " 

Very, very devoted to Scott is this quaint old 
guide, and very anxious that they should miss 
no smallest thing of interest in connection with 
the great man. He showed them the old library, 
with its many shelves of books, still as the poet 
arranged them to suit his fancy; he pointed out 
the beautiful portrait of Scott by Sir Henry 



2 20 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

Raeburn, the well-known one in which Scott is 
seated by a mined wall with the dog, " Camp," 
at his feet, and another dog, a greyhound, look- 
ing into his master's face; he showed them the 
richly carved ceiling of the library, the design 
copied from the roof of Rosslyn Chapel, and 
the fantastic Chinese wall-paper of the drawing- 
room, of which its owner was very prond. 

They lingered long over the glass case in 
the library bow-window, which contains many 
things of unusual value and interest. 

** Here's Tom Purdie's knife! '' exclaimed 
John. ^* See how big it is! " 

^* And a lock of Prince Charlie's hair," said 
Barbara. 

' ' Napoleon 's blotting-book, found in his car- 
riage after Waterloo ! ' ' 

^^ And Rob Roy's purse, and a piece of Queen 
Mary's dress, and her ivory crucifix which she 
may have carried at her execution." Betty was 
beside herself! There was so much to see in 
this case alone! 

*^ Here's Prince Charlie's own quaich, Betty. 
See, it has a glass bottom! And here are 
others, too, one made from Queen Mary's yew 
tree at Craigmillar Castle." 

^' You might steal one of these to send your 
mother for her birthday, Betty! " put in Bar- 
bara. 

John was already in the armory, examining 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 221 

the swords and spurs, pistols, and weapons of 
all sorts and from all countries. Some are 
there because of their beauty of workmanship; 
others have great historic interest as well, such 
as Rob Eoy's gun and the great Montrose's 
sword, with its royal arms and its Latin in- 
scriptions. 

Thinking of the original keys from the 
* ^ Heart of Midlothian, ' ' which she had seen in 
the entrance hall, Mrs. Pitt mused, ' ' I wonder 
if Scott built some of his novels around these 
treasures, or did he collect the treasures be- 
cause he had written the novels! '^ 

But this question it is impossible for any one 
to answer, and Mrs. Pitt turned to listen to the 
guide's explanation of two old sketches which 
hang on the armory wall. 

The first picture is called ^* The Dish of 
Spurs," and it shows what is said to be an 
ancient border custom. A housewife, finding 
that her larder is quite empty, places a dish 
of spurs upon the table as a suggestion to the 
men of her family that they had better start off 
on a raid and capture some of their neighbors' 
cattle. The young Laird of Harden, Walter 
Scott's ancestor, apparently took this hint, and, 
on the lands of the Laird of Elibank, was cap- 
tured and sentenced to be hanged for stealing 
cattle. But Lady Elibank interposed and per- 
suaded her husband to give the prisoner his 



222 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

choice of a lianging or a marriage with Ms 
daughter, " Muckle-Mouthed Meg,'' who was 
not celebrated for her beauty, as the next pic- 
ture shows us. This sketch is called ^^ The 
Eiever's Wedding," and makes it plain that the 
young man chose to marry the frightfully un- 
attractive lady who, however, made him an ex- 
cellent wife and was splendid at '^ pickling the 
beef.'' 

* ^ And, ' ' said the guide, * * Sir Walter and the 
Honorable Mrs. Maxwell-Scott, his great-grand- 
daughter, who now owns this house, — the two 
are descended from ' Muckle-Mouthed Meg.' 
See? " 

Barbara looked longingly from the front win- 
dows of the house, which command a view of the 
lawn stretching smoothly away to the pretty 
river Tweed. She longed to wander about 
there, but was promptly silenced by the guide, 
who told her that visitors are never allowed 
on the lawn or in the gardens. So they took 
their seats in the motor car and soon forgot 
their disappointment in the delightful drive 
across country. 

Before reaching Dryburgh Abbey, however, 
they took a rough road leading from the main 
highway to Sandyknowe farm, where Scott, as a 
delicate boy, was sent to stay with his grand- 
father and his aunt. It is a typical brick farm- 
house, surrounded by its outbuildings, beyond 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 223 

which a lane leads through rocky fields to a 
hill surmounted by an old Border tower. 

^^ Oh," cried Betty, all at once remembering 
the connection. ^^ It's Smailholm Tower, where 
Scott lay and watched the thunderstorm ! ' ' 

^' You're right again, Betty," laughed Mrs. 
Pitt. ^ ' The boy Scott was very much attached 
to this old Border peel, or watch-tower. Here 
he used to come very often and here it was 
that his aunt found him during a severe 
thunderstorm. He was lying on his back on 
this hilltop, enjoying himself to the full, and, 
after a particularly loud burst of thunder, they 
heard him cry, ^ Bonnie ! Bonnie ! ' Scott sev- 
eral times wrote of this tower about which his 
love and imagination grouped many tales. The 
vicinity is described in his ^ Eve of St. John ' 
and in ^ Marmion,' too, Scott tells of his boy- 
hood here." 

The old tower is very picturesque, square 
and tall, with four stories and a gabled roof; 
but, best of all, are its beautiful views of the 
varied country where, as Scott truly said, 

"... naked cliffs were rudely piled; 
But ever and anon between 
Lay velvet tufts of loveliest green ; " 

Through tiny villages, along high, dusty 
roads, through cool, dark valleys they sped un- 



224 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

til the chauffeur stopped near a lodge, from 
which a young girl was already emerging to sell 
them tickets for Dryburgh Abbey. Taking the 
money from Mrs. Pitt, she pointed out their 
way along a shady path, crossed here and there 
by the roots of great beech trees. 

*^ Next to my favorite Fountains Abbey in 
Yorkshire,'' said Mrs. Pitt, as she sauntered 
along, ^ * I think that Dryburgh has the loveliest 
situation. Here, among the old yews and the 
cedars of Lebanon, in this spot remote from all 
except the river, there is surely a wonderful 
charm about the ruins of church, refectory, chap- 
ter-house, and cloisters. And then, there's 
Scott 's tomb, you know. He was buried here by 
virtue of rights held by his ancestors, the Hali- 
burtons, at one time owners of the abbey." 

And they found it all quite as delightful as 
Mrs. Pitt had intimated. First of all they stood 
by Scott's tomb, beneath a fragment of a tran- 
sept, where the great man was laid in the year 
1832, and where other members of his family 
are now beside him; they gazed and admired, 
and gazed again, at the delicate tracery of St. 
Catherine's rose-window peeping out from its 
covering of green ivy, and at the exquisite grace 
of the ancient Saxon door which divides the 
church from what were once the cloisters ; they 
explored the refectory and the domestic build- 
ings and the Abbot 's parlor, with its damp walls 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 225 

and ceiling still intact. Quietly they moved 
about, and quietly they walked back to the 
thumping motor car, which they could almost 
have hated for the moment because it dared to 
intrude upon the beauty, the peace of Dryburgh 
Abbey. 

They were a long distance away before any 
one spoke; then it was John who said, ^' Well, 
I can't see why a lot of monks should want to 
go off and live all by themselves, but if they 
were bound to do it, they certainly chose a bully 
place I ' ' 

(The return drive to Melrose took them along 
a road which wound high above the silvery 
Tweed; at a point which commanded an en- 
chanting view of distant hills and of the nearer 
deep green valley through which winds the 
river, in its ^* horseshoe curve,'' the chauffeur 
stopped his motor car, jumped out, and, coming 
to their side, said: *^ This is Sir Walter Scott's 
view, lady. He often drove to Dryburgh Ab- 
bey by this very road, and each time he would 
pause just here for the view. Finally the horses 
would stop of themselves, you might say, and 
that's just what they did on the day of the 
funeral when they were taking Scott's body to 
the abbey. They say the coachman had hard 
work getting the horses to start again." 

Delaying long enough to say farewell to the 
landlady at the hotel and to pick up their suit- 



226 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

cases, they weTe carried on in tlie motor car to 
the station in time for the Edinburgh train. 
They were in good time but the train was not. 
Forty impatient minutes they waited on that 
platform, and the time would have seemed long 
indeed had not a station official afforded them 
much amusement by his efforts to paste one of 
the railway company's new timetables on the 
big bulletin-board. 

John stood looking on, a mixture of fun and 
disgust upon his face. '^ If we had such things 
in America, a fellow would stick on about two 
dozen in the time this man needs for one. My, 
but he 's slow ! ' ' 

'' Yes," said Betty, '^ and his fingers are all 
thumbs! " 

The clumsy Scotchman would measure the 
space with a careful eye, then cover it with 
the limp timetable, one side covered with paste. 
Apparently satisfied, he would press it lightly 
along the top edge, and all the spectators would 
be thinking how well it was going, when he 
would jerk the whole thing off. There had been 
a wrinkle somewhere. Patiently moistening his 
great brush, he would slowly begin all over 
again, the station-master, who stood by, occa- 
sionally giving a word of advice,— -a tall carica- 
ture of a station-master who, for some reason 
best known to himself, wore a silk hat with his 
rough, brownish trousers and shirtsleeves. The 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 227 

two were still at work when the belated train 
appeared. 

Trains in Great Britain may not look as sub- 
stantial and capable as those in America, but 
they can run fast, and with less danger of acci- 
dents. This especial one seemed to be trying to 
make up its lost time. On through towns and 
between fields of grain it hurried them. They 
whirled through Lauder, where Archibald 
Douglas, or " Bell the Cat," of Tantallon Cas- 
tle, seized and promptly hanged Cochrane, a 
worthless favorite of King James III; they 
caught sight of the fifteenth-century keep of 
Crichton Castle on the right and, on their left, 
of Borthwick Castle, with a room in which 
Queen Mary and Bothwell once passed the 
night. Then it seemed but a very short time 
until familiar Arthur's Seat appeared before 
them, and they left the train at the Waverley 
Station. It was very good to be riding up 
Princes Street once more and to find all quite 
as they had left it. 



CHAPTER FIFTEEN 

HAWTHORNDEN AND ROSLIN 

*' Walked all the way from London, did he? 
Whew ! Wasn't he the fat one who always spilt 
his soup and drank twenty-five cups of tea at 
a time? Should think he'd have been done for 
after that jaunt ! ' ' 

Very emphatically, even a bit impatiently, 
was John corrected by his sister. Of course it 
had not been eighteenth-century Dr. Johnson 
but seventeenth-century Ben Jonson, the poet, 
who had thus made his way north to pay a visit 
to his friend, Drummond of Hawthornden, near 
Edinburgh. 

Toward the beautiful estate which formerly 
belonged to this Scotch poet, Drummond, they 
were now turning their steps on a fair July 
morning. Once before they had come, only to 
be sent back to the city because the days for 
admitting strangers had recently been changed ; 
this time the woman at the lodge smilingly ad- 
mitted them and they proceeded along the wide 
drive. 

*^ I wish we could have come in rhododendron 
228 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 229 

season, ' ' remarked Barbara. ^ * See, the bushes 
are thick at both sides of the road, and I'm 
sure they had those lavender blossoms, aren't 
you, Mother? '' 

Soon they came to the old garden, full of 
dainty, pale tea roses, and approached by the 
quaintest of gateways surmounted by two an- 
cient urns. Near by is a wonderful sycamore 
tree, said to be the largest in all Scotland. Try 
as he would, John could not focus his camera 
so as to take in either its height or the width 
of its great spreading branches. As they mar- 
veled at its beauty, a woman who was knitting 
in the rose-garden told them that under this 
very tree Drummond stood to welcome his fa- 
mous English guest. 

* ^ By Jove ! ' ' exclaimed Philip all at once. 
** There's a tree growing up out of the castle 
itself! " 

The woman did not smile ; she only told them, 
with the weary air of one having given the 
same information to visitors since time was, of 
how some one had once planted a shoot from 
the famous sycamore tree inside the old keep. 
And so it now looms up very strangely above 
the square tower. 

** You see," said Mrs. Pitt, sitting down on 
a wall to rest, '^ this old keep once belonged 
to a castle built by the Bruce himself. Drum- 
mond only added his seventeenth-century house 



230 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

to the ancient building; that's why we see such 
a qneer, irregular structure, part of the original 
gray stone and part, a kind of plaster painted 
terra cotta. Under the house are still some 
caves in the great rock, where the Bruce is said 
to have taken refuge from his enemies. We can 
see the caves, I think; I'll ask the woman to 
show us the way." 

*^ Don't see how Bruce ever got in here! " 
cried John a few minutes later, standing at the 
mouth of these strange caves. The rock drops 
steeply from where John was standing down 
to the Esk River flowing many feet below. 
^^ Do you mean he climbed up over this 
rock?" 

'' He probably had many harder things than 
that to do, John." Mrs. Pitt and the others 
were exploring one of the inner caves, where 
the walls are lined with rows and rows of odd 
little square niches. 

*VSome people believe that the Eomans used 
these caves, and that the niches were intended 
to hold the ashes of their dead. Others call this 
Robert Bruce 's Library, but I think the old 
Scotchman was about right when he said, 
^ There wadna be mony bund books then.' 
Come, let's start on our walk through the val- 
ley now. The woman told us to go under the 
green lattice gateway and follow the path along 
this side of the river." 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 231 

** Yes, Mother, until we see a little foot- 
bridge. Then we cross and go along the oppo- 
site bank. Is it far to Eoslin? '^ 

From Hawthornden to Roslin is in reality 
only about a mile and three-quarters, and to 
walk it is one of the most delightful of experi- 
ences. At first they kept turning back for a last 
glance at the picturesque pile they had just 
left, which, from the valley, seems almost to be 
suspended among the tree-tops, high above the 
river. Again and again they saw it as they 
wound down the mossy path, and each time it 
made a lovelier picture. 

'^ That's the last time, surely, '* said Bar- 
bara by and by; and she was right, for just 
then they crossed the foot-bridge with a tiny 
tollgate in the center, and then went on by the 
right bank of the Esk. 

^ ' In the spring there must be a great deal of 
wild onion here," remarked Mrs. Pitt; step- 
ping carefully over a muddy spot. ^' It doesn't 
smell good, I know, but its white blossoms are 
so pretty! Isn't the sunshine beautiful, peep- 
ing between the leaves at us, Barbara ! Do you 
have such trees at home, Betty, and such 
ferns? " 

^ ' The water is very brown, ' ' said John, feel- 
ing it his duty to criticise things a bit now and 
then. ^^ P'r'aps it's only because there are so 
many rocks in the way to make tiny waterfalls, 



232 JOHN AND BETTY^S 

and they stir it up.'' Then he ran eagerly- 
ahead to examine a curiously arranged flood- 
gate, the operation of which he did not well 
understand. 

Their path now became rougher and steeper; 
they scrambled up over rocks, holding by the 
bushes and lower branches; they crept down 
slippery descents; and they stepped high over 
the giant tree-roots. A gentleman pointed out to 
them a short cut to Rosslyn Chapel, away from 
the rocky path; following his directions, they 
had a hard walk across fields and up a hill- 
side, but at last they arrived, breathless, beside 
far-famed Rosslyn Chapel. 

* ^ Wait a moment, children ! Just wait till 
I get my breath! And my hat! Please 
straighten it, Barbara. My word! that was a 
climb for me ! " 

Mrs. Pitt had dropped upon the grass for a 
moment, but she soon allowed Philip to pull her 
up, laughing, as he said, ** Never mind. Mother; 
the walk was worth it! " 

Before going any nearer the chapel, they 
went down a path which brought them to Ross- 
lyn Castle. A very fine old place they found 
it, with its picturesque ruined keep, its private 
chapel, and its beacon-tower from which alarms 
could be sent out in the olden days. On one 
side of the courtyard is a building which was 
restored in 1622 ; it is still used, probably by a 




m ^n 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 233 

caretaker, who has the unusual advantage of 
living in a beautiful old room with pitch-pine 
paneling and a quaint ceiling in nine squares, 
one of which bears the St. Clair arms. 

* * ^ The lordly line of high St. Clair ' has been 
a family of note in Scotland ever since Malcolm 
Canmore gave the Roslin territory into the pos- 
session of the founder of the line, a Norman 
baron.'' So Mrs. Pitt was telling them. " An 
ancestor of his was among those with Lord 
James Douglas when he started for Palestine, 
carrying the Bruce 's heart. There is a legend 
about a certain brave earl of this line who, to 
prove that his two dogs could run down a mys- 
terious white deer which even the king's own 
hounds could not overtake, wagered his head 
against the forest of Pentland, which the king 
promised to give him if his dogs could perform 
the feat. At first it did look as though the 
Earl would lose, but little by little his dogs 
gained on the deer until finally they overtook 
and killed it. But it is said that St. Clair, 
though his life was saved, could never forget 
the pitiful glance which the dying deer gave 
him. It haunted the Earl and it seemed surely 
to have some strange significance for, in a ter- 
rible storm, not long after, the beautiful daugh- 
ter of the house was drowned by the upsetting 
of her boat in the Firth. You can read the 
story of ' Rosabelle ' in Scott's ' Lay of the 



234 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

Last Minstrel,' where it is given as one of the 
short songs." 

*^ Yes," said Betty, *' I remember. It tells 
how the chapel here at Koslin seemed to be on 
fire that night ; it always looked like that before 
one of the St. Glairs was to die. And then they 
were buried in their armor, uncovered, in the 
crypt, weren't they? " 

Mrs. Pitt had been trying to escape the many 
guides who flocked the castle precincts, but she 
finally listened to the pleadings of one Scotch 
youth. They were glad afterwards for, leading 
them through an old garden and past an ancient 
Irish yew tree (from which they used to make 
cross-bows because the wood was very flexible), 
he showed them vast buildings which are not 
visible from the courtyard above, because they 
are low and slope toward the river. They won- 
dered at the huge baronial hall measuring sixty- 
four feet, and at the small rooms underneath 
which served as soldiers' quarters, rooms prac- 
tically of the same size with arched stone roofs, 
one window, and uneven stone floors. They 
were amazed at the kitchen fireplace, which their 
guide called the largest in Europe, and prop- 
erly impressed by the entrance to a blocked-up 
subterranean passage, which once connected 
Eosslyn Castle with Hawthornden, and had sev- 
eral entrances through caves in the G-len of the 
Esk. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 235 

*^ Oh! " burst out John; ^^ I want to go back 
and find them.'' 

They saw some tiny round holes in the outer 
walls of the Bell Tower, from which arrows 
were shot. It is very rarely that one sees 
round holes instead of the narrow slits. They 
even heard of lifts and of speaking-tubes! 
Strange things indeed to stumble across in an 
ancient Scotch castle! On the whole, they did 
not grudge the guide his fee. 

^^ It was Earl William, living in the middle 
of the fifteenth century, who founded Rosslyn 
Chapel," said Mrs. Pitt, as they left the castle 
behind them at last. '^ It was intended as the 
choir of a church which was never completed. 
This was the St. Clair who lived in grand state, 
Betty, being served by real earls who boasted 
castles of their own ; and his countess, Margaret 
Douglas, was attended by seventy-five gentle- 
women, fifty-three of whom were the daughters 
of noblemen. But all their power and wealth 
could not prevent their magnificent chapel, built 
in 1446, from being destroyed in the revolution 
of 1688. Here it stood, unroofed and without 
either doors or windows, for long years before 
it was restored. It is most interesting, I think, 
that the late Earl had a horror of the ancient 
burial, custom of his family; he wanted to be 
outside the chapel, ' in the sunshine, ' as he said. 



236 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

and they accordingly laid him beneath the sod 
at the west end of the chapel." 

^* Well, he was the only sensible one among 
'em, ' ' John muttered, as they neared the chapel 
door. 

Both inside and out, Rosslyn Chapel is a mar- 
vel of minute design and elaborate carving done 
in the Spanish style. It is overpowering. 

"I'm not sure whether I like it," whispered 
Betty, gazing about her and then up at the 
carved stone ceiling. " It's so ditferent some- 
how, not at all like what I thought I'd see ! " 

Barbara was not long in finding the cele- 
brated " 'Prentice Pillar," which has its 
pathetic little legend. As usual, John had for- 
gotten this, so Mrs. Pitt went through it briefly 
for his benefit. 

" The master-builder was dissatisfied with his 
designs," she said; " he wanted to fimd a still 
more exquisite one for a certain pillar which 
was to stand near the altar, so he went to the 
Holy Land for his inspiration. Meantime a 
young apprentice boy, who worked on the build- 
ing, knew why his master was delaying the 
structure. Having an idea of his own for the 
design of this last pillar, — to wind about it a 
marvelously delicate garland of foliage, — the 
boy set about to carve it himself, and far more 
lovely than any of the others it proved. When 
the master came back, he saw and realized this, 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 237 

but lie was jealous and so angry with the boy 
that he struck him with a tool and killed him. 
There's the pillar, still in its place. Will you 
come and look at it, Betty? '' 

It was almost six o'clock when they stepped 
into one of the tourist coaches which ply be- 
tween Eoslin and Edinburgh. 

''It's been a great day! " said John, swing- 
ing himself up to his favorite seat beside the 
driver. 

''Yes," assented his sister, "but I don't 
want it to be over! It's the very last night we 
can go back to dear Edinburgh ! ' ' 



CHAPTER SIXTEEN 

LINLITHGOW, STIELING, AND THE TROSSACHS 

'' Was that it? Was that it! Oh, I could 
hardly see it at all! John, you bobbed your 
head at just the wrong moment. dear! I 
did so want to see Queen Margaret's Bower! '' 
So fast had the train gone through Linlithgow 
that only a very hurried glance could any of 
them snatch at the imposing old palace, birth- 
place of Mary Stuart. 

Those fortunate enough to pay it a visit find 
that the huge ruined pile in many ways still 
suggests its former elegance: by the broken 
fountain in the court from which that before 
Holyrood was copied; by its vast suites of 
apartments for use by the lords and ladies of 
the court ; by its splendid banquet-hall ; and by 
a curious window, like a horizontal ladder, 
which was especially designed to throw light on 
the fine ceiling of a drawing-room. One can 
understand why Scott thus described it : 

" Of all the palaces so fair, 

Built for the royal dwelling, 
238 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 239 

In Scotland, far beyond compare 
Linlithgow is excelling; " 

<< The good Regent Murray was assassinated 
in the streets of Linlithgow, you remember, 
and it was in one of the guardrooms, near the 
palace entrance, that he died. What was Queen 
Margaret's Bower, did you ask? A little six- 
sided turret at the top of a certain high tower. 
It was a favorite retreat of Queen Margaret, 
from which she is said to have watched in vain 
for the return of her husband, James IV, from 
Flodden Field. Barbara, will you put up the 
window, please 1 What disgusting smoke ! ' ' 

'^ Mother, didn't you once tell me that it was 
at Linlithgow that some one took the place by 
fetching in some armed men in a load of hay? " 

^' Quite right, Philip; I had almost forgotten 
that myself. It was Bruce, of course, who 
thought of the plan and thus took possession in 
1313, turning out the forces of Edward I, who 
had held it for some years.'' 

'^ Bruce was like that ' Sentimental 
Tommy, ' ' ' put in Barbara ; ^ ^ he could al- 
ways ' find a wy,' too." 

^^ There was a farmer, named William Bun- 
nock, who traded with the garrison but who was 
secretly on the side of the Scotch," continued 
Mrs. Pitt; ^' it was he who drove in the huge 
load of hay. No sooner had it safely passed 



240 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

the drawbridge than a number of armed men 
sprang out and quickly overcame the guards; 
reenforcements came and the castle was soon 
recovered by the Scotch." 

It was now nearing noon and they had come 
in sight of Stirling Castle, hardly less cele- 
brated in history and situation than that of 
Edinburgh itself. 

^< Why, it's just exactly like Edinburgh, isn't 
it ? " exclaimed Betty. 

Having first eaten their luncheon, they 
climbed one of the steep streets leading to the 
castle esplanade, entering by the Queen Anne 
gateway, marked with the dainty initials A. E. 
Mrs. Pitt pointed out a quaint little garden at 
their left, where roses appear quite content to 
wander over gray walls, the garden occupying 
part of the oldtime moat. Above is standing 
a portion of a very ancient building reached by 
a steep flight of stone steps. 

* ^ They lead to the room where the boy, James 
VI, used to study with his famous tutor, George 
Buchanan. You know," said Mrs. Pitt, ^* that 
Queen Mary sent him here to be educated by her 
Catholic friends and here he lived until he was 
thirteen years old. Mary herself knew this cas- 
tle well; she was crowned here when but nine 
months old ; she lived here for four years ; and 
here she was privately married to Darnley. 
Come and walk around this old palace of James 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 241 

V'. I think it is most interesting. It is much 
carved, you see, reminding one of the French 
style. The heavy iron bars at the windows 
were put there to insure the safety of the baby, 
James VI; of course there was always the fear 
that the Protestants would carry him off. But 
these old statues are most curious of all! '^ 

*^ Well, I should say, yes! '' cried John, look- 
ing up at the quaint figures which are placed, at 
intervals, all around the palace walls. '^ Look 
at this guy with the pointed cap and the big 
spoon! '' 

** He must be the cook! '' laughed Barbara. 

* * He is, ' ' replied her mother, ' ' and here is a 
steward, a courtier, and a court lady, and 
around here they even pictured the king and 
queen. See, aren^t they delightful! " 

They then saw the ancient Parliament House, 
and the Eoyal Chapel which James VI had hur- 
riedly restored in 1594 for the baptism of his 
son. Prince Henry. This is now divided, one 
part being used as dining-hall and the other as 
schoolroom for some of the soldiers. (Some of 
them certainly look young enough to be still at 
their lessons!) Even the fine old palace, with 
all its gargoyles, is now serving as a barracks. 

There is much to be seen from the corner of 
the Douglas Garden. In the far distance rise 
the Highland mountains, blue and hazy, the 
mountains of ^ ' The Lady of the Lake, ' ' and the 



242 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

haunts of Rob Roy. But all this they were to 
see the next day, so they turned their atten- 
tion from the wonderful view to things nearer 
at hand. 

*' There's the tall Wallace Monument/' said 
Mrs. Pitt, '' and the Old Bridge of Stirling, 
built about 1410, and for centuries the only 
gateway to the Highlands ; near it Wallace 
won his greatest victory over the English in 
September, 1297. It was under that bridge, 
too, Betty, that David and Allan, in ^ Kid- 
napped,' hid when they had at length ventured 
down from the mountains. There's the behead- 
ing-stone, — no, there! on the hilltop! It's cov- 
ered by an iron grating. Many a gallant man 
has looked his last from that unlucky spot! 
The hill was sometimes called ' Hurley-Haaky, ' 
too," she added; " in old Scotch, ^ haaky ' 
meant cow, and ^ hurley,' to coast. James V 
used to coast down that slope on a cow's skull, 
so they say. ' ' 

"' Why on earth did he choose that? " in- 
quired John. ^' Must have been awfully jolty, 
for a king! " 

'' James V was a very merry and democratic 
person, you know; it was he who used to dis- 
guise himself as the * Gudeman of Ballengeich, ' 
and wander all over the country in search of 
adventures to make him better acquainted with 
his people. ' Ballengeich ' means windy pass, 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 243 

and was the name of this rough road beneath 
us, which was once the main approach to the 
castle. ' ' They were still standing on the battle- 
ment of the Douglas Garden and, following 
Mrs. Pitt's example, they leaned over as far as 
possible to see the picturesque road and gate- 
way. 

^^ Down the Ballengeich Eoad James V used 
to go, and so he took its name for his incognito. ' ' 

^^ I remember a story about the ^ Laird of 
Ballengeich 's ' meeting a farmer named John 
Howieson, ' ' said Barbara presently. ^ ^ Several 
gypsies had attacked the King, who was doing 
his best to protect himself when Howieson ap- 
peared, just in time to save him. But, of course, 
he didn 't know it was the King. James, still dis- 
guised, went to the farmhouse, where Howieson 
washed his wounds and then insisted upon see- 
ing him safely back to the city. On the way 
the ' Gudeman ' told Howieson that he lived at 
the castle and he invited the farmer to go to 
see him there the next Sunday. John had never 
been to the castle and felt a bit shy, but his 
host showed him all about and then led him to 
a room full of people. They all took off their 
hats except Howieson and his companion, but 
even the farmer didn't realize right away that 
his friend was the King. He knew finally, of 
course! James gave him the land on which he 
lived at Braehead on condition that he and his 



244 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

descendants should always be ready to offer a 
basin of water for the King of Scotland to wash 
his hands.'' 

'' Did you know/' added Mrs. Pitt, '' that 
when George IV was in Scotland in 1822, a 
Howieson of Braehead came to the castle and 
offered the King a silver basin of water? The 
old terms had not been forgotten." 

*' That's certainly a lovely story," remarked 
Betty contentedly, as they were walking to- 
wards the Douglas Eoom. 

It is supposed to have been in this room that 
James II killed the Earl of Douglas, who had 
entered into a powerful league with the Earls 
of Eoss and Crawford, thus angering his sov- 
ereign. When the Douglas refused to with- 
draw from the league at command of the King, 
the latter, in sudden rage, drew his sword and 
killed him. A spirited poem describes this 
scene, and makes the Douglas say: 

" ' No, by the cross it may not be ; 

IVe pledged my knightly word,' 
And like a thunder-cloud he scowled, 

And half unsheathed his sword. 
Then drew the king that jeweled glaive, 

Which gore so oft had spilt, 
And in the haughty Douglas' heart 

He sheathed it to the hilt." 

The Douglas Eoom is rather disappointing; 
there was a fire not long ago and part of the 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 245 

paneling is new. One may see a motley collec- 
tion of relics and weapons, and in the adjoin- 
ing closet is a Douglas memorial window, placed 
there by Queen Victoria's order. 

At the ^' Ladies' Lookout " they paused some 
time to enjoy another superb view. Just below 
the great castle rock, which is clearly seen from 
that point, is the ancient King's Park and the 
King's Knot, the quaint shapes of the latter 's 
flower-beds now like faint ghosts of the old royal 
garden. On this day there was visible some- 
thing so modern, so much more real, that one 
hardly noticed the old Eoyal Park at all; this 
was a huge white cross on the grass of a neigh- 
boring field which marked the spot where an 
aviator from Edinburgh was expected to land 
that afternoon. 

^^ I shouldn't wonder if the King's Knot 
faded away altogether before that flying ma- 
chine comes," said Betty dreamily. 

Later they stood once more in the wide es- 
planade, beside the statue of the Bruce, and 
like the form of the hero, looked off towards 
the southeast. 

** And over there was Bannockburn, Bruce 's 
greatest victory! " Betty was musing. *' I 
could stay here forever and imagine things! 
It was in 1314, wasn't it? Well, just look 
straight over all these houses with their dirty 
black chimneys, and it's just as easy to see the 



246 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

little burn with Bruce there beside it, thinking 
what to do next. ' ^ 

This was more than John could bear. * * The 
idea! '' he ejaculated. '* Wasn't the battle go- 
ing on? He wouldn't stand still like an idiot 
and wonder what to do next, you stupid! He 
just had to do it, right off ! " 

But Betty dreamed on, unheeding. ** Bruce 
had women dressed in plaids and carrying 
weapons, who were on the hills all around. 
They couldn't really have fought much, of 
course, but the English thought they were a 
whole new army. And Bruce dug trenches and 
the English fell into them, horses and all! " 

'' What does Bannockburn mean, anyhow? *' 
John demanded. Whereupon Barbara ex- 
plained to him that a burn was a brook, of 
course, and that a bannock is a flat Scotch cake, 
made of oatmeal. "" The soldiers carried these 
bannocks with them," said she, " and they 
dipped them in the burn to moisten them. 
Wasn't that how the name originated, 
Mother? " 

Mrs. Pitt agreed that that might easily have 
been the explanation. And then they walked 
back to the station, passing through different 
streets and seeing many fine old churches and 
houses, and the Tolbooth, with its adjoining 
Mercat Cross. 

From Stirling to Callander is not a long trip, 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 247 

and upon arrival there they found a big coach 
in readiness to take them to the Trossachs 
Hotel. 

By this time the sun was getting low, but it 
still lay brightly upon certain hillsides and 
lighted up the leaves on the topmost branches 
to an almost dazzling green. There had been 
a short but heavy shower during the day, fresh- 
ening everything after the heat, which had been 
most unusual for Scotland. The mountain- 
sides, covered with heather, had great dark 
patches on them, but the rounded peaks were 
still in bright sunlight. 

It need not be thought that John was unap- 
preciative, because he was busily talking to the 
coach-driver all the way. He felt that he could 
not afford to miss anything they were passing, 
and now and then he turned to interrupt the 
reveries of the others in order to give them 
some word of information. It was usually in 
reference to the happenings in '^ The Lady of 
the Lake," of course. 

Here, the driver told him, was Lanrick Mead, 
the place of meeting of the Clan Alpine when- 
ever the fiery cross was being carried from one 
clan to another as a signal of war. Here was 
Coilantogle Ford where Fitzjames fought with 
Roderick Dhu; here they crossed the pictur- 
esque Brig o ' Turk and followed the road along 
beside Loch Achray. 



248 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

By the time they had reached the hotel, and 
a porter, lifting the ladder, had helped the 
ladies to descend from the coach, John's friend, 
the driver, had become most confidential. He 
had decided not to go to America, he was say- 
ing. He supposed he could make more money 
there, '^ but here we like to get into our slippers 
and be comfortable,'' said he. Overhearing 
this remark, Mrs. Pitt reflected how very much 
better it would be if only more of the Scotch 
would be satisfied with what they have and earn 
at home, and not go over to America to find 
their eyes rudely opened to the fact that there 
one must work even harder for one's living. 

The following morning they left their lug- 
gage to be brought on by the coach, while they 
walked through the charming woodland pass 
known as the Trossachs, or ^' bristling coun- 
try." There are bare hills and hills covered 
with purple heather and overhung by great gray 
rocks; wild flowers are everywhere, and deep, 
dense, fragrant woods. It is a fairyland of 
rainbows, of sun, and of shadow. It was very 
pleasant to walk here as slowly as one might 
wish. At the little pier on dainty Loch Katrine, 
a steamer waited, but as it would not start for 
an hour, John decided to row his sister out 
to Ellen's Isle, no great distance from the 
shore. 

** We want to climb all over it," said Betty. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 249 

** Perhaps we can see where they lived, Ellen 
and her father and all the rest.'* 

They rented a boat, scorning the offer of a 
boatman who desired to do the rowing for 
them. Betty took her place in the stern, her 
brother picked up his oars, and they were off. 
Their trip was not a very successful one, how- 
ever. Heavy mists hung over mighty Ben 
Venue, although brilliant sunshine prevailed 
on the peaks opposite; every now and again a 
heavy shower fell upon them, and a brisk little 
breeze was blowing. Betty cheerfully put up 
her umbrella, not desiring to have her hat 
ruined. As they drew a bit nearer the little 
green island, Betty was reading from her plaid- 
covered copy of ^^ The Lady of the Lake.'' 

" When lo ! forth starting at the sound, 
From underneath an aged oak, 
That slanted from the islet rock, 
A damsel guider of its way, 
A little skiff shot to the bay," 

'* I like the part where Malcolm Graeme 
comes in," she was saying, when she heard an 
exclamation from John, and noticed that their 
' ^ skiff ' ' was not ' ^ shooting to the bay ' ' at all. 

''I'd like to know how you expect me to row 
with these crazy oars and that umbrella of 
yours up ! Say, Betty, put it down, or I'll turn 
back ! How can I row with that umbrella catch- 



250 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

ing tlie wind and holding us back all tlie time ? ' ' 
Tlie wind seemed to be rising, and as Betty 
persisted in refusing to get herself wet, he did 
turn back, and grumbling much, finally brought 
up alongside the pier, just as the steamer was 
about to start. With a comfortable awning 
over them as a protection from the rain, they 
surveyed the little island, now covered with 
trees and much tangled underbrush, which once 
served as a home for the Douglas and his 
daughter, Ellen. 

The showers were soon over and they were 
sorry when the boat-ride ended at Stronach- 
lacher, where they took places on the coach to 
make the trip across to Loch Lomond. The 
country between the two lochs is associated 
with Eob Koy, whose wife, Helen Macgregor, 
lived in Inversnaid. 

'' Rob Roy belonged to the Clan Macgregor, 
too, ' ' said Mrs. Pitt, ^ ' but he called himself a 
Campbell, and for this reason: the Clan Mac- 
gregor met with more terrible persecution than 
any other clan, even their territory being added 
to that of the Campbells. It was merely for 
protection that Rob Roy called himself a mem- 
ber of his enemies' clan. He was not always a 
wild outlaw, you know, but a cattle-dealer, liv- 
ing a peaceful life for many years. He would 
collect his cattle from the sides of these moun- 
tains (there are only a few sheep here now) 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 251 

and drive them to market in England or in the 
Lowlands. He was at one time associated with 
the Duke of Montrose in a cattle speculation 
which was a failure ; not only did Rob Roy lose 
all he had, but the Duke tried to make him pay 
more than his share. When Rob Roy refused to 
do this, the Duke advertised him as a thief and 
a swindler, so he was obliged to flee to the moun- 
tains. Gradually there gathered about him 
many who had wrongs to avenge, and together 
these men got their living in any way they 
could, principally by ' lifting ' other people's 
cattle. They often took from the rich to supply 
the poor. You see, it was Robin Hood all over 
again ! All the rest of his life Rob Roy spent 
in this way, annoying the Duke when he possibly 
could and always outwitting him. The Duke 
built a fort here at Inversnaid and Rob Roy 
carried away every gun in it. It is said that 
he, at length, asked to be allowed to return to 
a peaceable life, but this request was refused 
and Rob Roy died an outcast. He is buried not 
far from here, at Balquhidder, and a broad- 
sword is all that is carved on his tomb ! ' ' 

They had time for a visit to the pretty water- 
fall at Inversnaid and for a hurried tea at the 
hotel; then the boat started for the long after- 
noon's sail on Loch Lomond. Here the moun- 
tains are not as rugged as near Loch Katrine 
but the coloring and the lights and shadows are 



252 JOHN AND BETTY 

as lovely. Many hotels and the summer homes 
of Glasgow people are along the lake shore, and, 
in the foreground, there is always the strange, 
transparent green of the water. 

** There were many * good people ' about 
here,'' remarked Mrs. Pitt, when some one had 
spoken about the tint of the water. '^ They 
acted for years as dyers to the clans of Loch 
Lomond. It was only necessary to leave cloth, 
wool, or thread near the loch, with a sample of 
the desired shade, to have the dyeing care- 
fully done. But the tale is that some one once 
asked jokingly to have the fleece of a black 
sheep dyed white. Offended at this, the fairies 
poured all their dye-stuff into the mountain 
brook which flows into the loch, and ever since 
that its waters have been of this beautiful 
shade. ' ' 

As the afternoon wore on, they wearied of 
scenery. Mrs. Pitt sat dreamily gazing off 
across the water to the lavender-tinted moun- 
tains; John spent much time in taking the 
photograph of two little Scotch travelers in 
Highland kilts; Barbara and Philip discussed 
some subject of great moment, while Betty 
turned her attention to her long-neglected diary. 
There was a change from the boat to a train 
at Balloch pier; then a short ride transported 
them from the region of lakes and mountains 
to busy, smoky Glasgow. 




H W 

S M 

M "^ 

Si! 



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 



* * I SAY ! We Ve a jolly view from here ! ' ' 

The presence of Mrs. Pittas cousin, an im- 
portant member of the Clyde Navigation Trust, 
which has control of the entire river, had, in- 
deed, worked a miracle. No sooner had the 
steamer left her dock than its captain, all po- 
liteness, had placed chairs for the whole party 
on his little private platform, where an nnder 
officer was standing at the wheel. From this 
point they could look over the heads of the 
other passengers, and get a splendid view of 
the busy scenes on both banks of the famous 
River Clyde. 

*' Near the pier we have just left,'' Mr. Gor- 
don was telling them, ^ * there is a district known 
by the curious name of ^ Broomielaw.' From 
there was launched in 1847 the first iron vessel, 
the Henry Bell! It is said that crowds of peo- 
ple gathered near by, confidently expecting to 
see the heavy boat sink. That seems extraor- 
dinary to us, now, doesn't it? " 

Glasgow Harbor, as it now exists, has been 
253 



254 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

made by the patient deepening and widening of 
the Clyde ; the work is still in progress, for two 
great dredging-machines are yet in constant 
operation. Glasgow has spent about nine mil- 
lions sterling upon its harbor. The river banks 
once knew Eoman stations, stately country seats 
of Glasgow bishops, and capital salmon fish- 
eries ; but, one by one, they have disappeared, 
giving place to the deafening clang of hammer 
and steel, the great black stagings, and the giant 
forms of all manner of vessels in the making. 
Here are some of the most celebrated ship- 
building yards in the world. 

As their boat steamed along, they saw cargo 
steamers, ocean steamers, cruisers, torpedo 
boats, all sorts of river and coasting craft, some 
even intended for use in Eastern and South 
African waters. There were ships in all stages 
of construction, from the mere keel of what will 
be the largest vessel afloat, a new Cunarder, to 
the launched battleship very recently given by 
Australia to the Imperial Government. 

" Just look at her, will you I ^' cried John 
excitedly. '' She's black with men! They're 
just thick all over her ! ' ' 

^ ^ There are two thousand men working now 
aboard her," answered Mr. Gordon, whose en- 
thusiasm was second only to John's. ^^ The 
Premier and a number of Australian officials 
were present at the launching a few weeks ago. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 255 

She'll not be finished for from nine to twelve 
months, however." 

^^ Wish you could have taken us into a yard 
so we could have seen things working! " John 
exclaimed, after a while. '^ That would have 
been bully! " 

^* I could have done that, certainly, but Mrs. 
Pitt and I decided you would really understand 
it all better by being on board this boat sailing 
between the docks. You wouldn't have under- 
stood much that you saw at one of the yards, 
and it's impossible to explain, because one can't 
make oneself heard. You hear what the noise 
is even where we are now. To build a ship, 
John, they first put up an elaborate staging, like 
that you saw ready for the new Cunarder ; then 
the materials are all brought together. The 
iron ore comes from Spain, and most companies 
have their own smelting-works, where it is made 
into the plates which are used. Did you know 
that the lower parts of warships have a curious 
double construction these days? There is an 
inner concave surface over which the outer hold 
is constructed to prevent sinking when the ships 
are in service." 

While John was nodding his head wisely in 
response to all these explanations, Betty, who 
had given up any attempt to understand them, 
pointed to a huge iron crane with uneven arms. 

'' What's that? " she inquired. 



256 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

'' That is one of the largest cranes in the 
world,'' said their host. '' It can lift four hun- 
dred tons, one arm one hundred and fifty tons, 
and the other two hundred and fifty! The 
arms are movable, of course, and they are in- 
tended principally to lift great boilers. ' ' 

Somewhat farther down the river, where 
green fields were beginning to replace the great 
shipyards, they overtook an ocean steamer just 
leaving port. 

** See the funny people in turbans," said 
Betty, pointing to some men on deck, and one 
who was thrusting his head from out a porthole. 
** They look like the Eastern princes at the 
Coronation! " 

Mrs. Pitt explained that this ship was just 
starting for the Orient with a native crew. 
'* It's a P. & 0. boat, isn't it! " she asked of 
Mr. Gordon. 

** Ay, that's a P. & 0. on her way to Liv- 
erpool to pick up her passengers. All except 
her officers are natives; a whole Indian crew, 
you know. Those P. & 0. boats are built here 
on the Clyde, too. Ay, it's a good line." 

They also saw a ship just sailing for Boston. 
For a moment, Betty looked at it a bit longingly, 
thinking of Father and Mother, but she soon re- 
flected that she really was not yet ready to start 
for home. It was not long, either, before she 
espied the great rock of Dumbarton Castle, and 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 257 

at tliat moment America no longer existed for 
her. 

** To think there should be three castle rocks 
so much alike," said she, as the cleft rock, rising 
live hundred and sixty feet from the river, drew 
nearer and nearer, — * ^ Stirling, Edinburgh, and 
now Dumbarton ! ' ' 

' * It 's a corking position, ' ' said John enthusi- 
astically. ^^ Is it still a fort, Mrs. Pitt? " 

' ^ Yes, John, it is still a fortress, but even its 
situation would count for very little in a mod- 
ern war. The guns are old, the fortifications 
weak, and the buildings far too small. The 
most interesting thing about Dumbarton is its 
brilliant past, of course. Ossian, — ^you remem- 
ber him, John? — called the rock ^ Balclutha,'and 
said of it, * The thistle shakes there its lovely 
head.' I believe that genuine Scotch thistles 
do still grow on the higher part of the rock, 
which is called Wallace's Seat. The Eomans 
had a fortress here, which they named Dun- 
briton, or ^ the Briton's Eock.' Robert Bruce 
once took this castle by strategy; the little 
squadron, which was sent out against England 
after the defeat at Flodden Field, sailed from 
under the shelter of Dumbarton Rock; Mary 
Stuart lived here for about two years before 
she left for France, and this was her goal after 
her escape from Lochleven Castle. Oh, with 
innumerable historical events is Dumbarton as- 



258 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

sociatedy but I like it best for its connection 
with William Wallace." 

** He was almost as great a fellow as the 
Bruce, wasn't he! '' inquired John. 

'* He was, and even a greater fellow, in my 
poor opinion. A wonderful man was Wallace, 
a powerful leader and organizer. So far as is 
known, William Wallace was the first and the 
last of his family to win fame. He was edu- 
cated by an uncle who lived at Riccarton in 
Ayrshire. You'll hear of Wallace when we go 
to Ayr, also. In 1297, Wallace's wife was 
brutally killed at Lanark when the English were 
in power there, and it was this that aroused the 
hero to take the lead against the English in- 
vaders. In four months' time he had forty 
thousand footmen and one hundred and eighty 
mounted men, and, at their head, he defeated a 
much larger English army at Stirling. Wal- 
lace's fame grew until he was known as the 
Guardian of Scotland, but he loyally did all in 
the name of King John Baliol, deposed as that 
weak monarch was. At the time of Wallace's 
great victory at Stirling, Edward I of England 
was away ; but when, on his return, he advanced 
with an army of seven thousand men-at-arms, 
Wallace suffered a terrible defeat, not far from 
Stirling. 

^' After this, Wallace disappeared as sud- 
denly as he had come to the aid of his country. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 259 

No one knows just where he went, perhaps 
abroad, perhaps to the depths of the Highlands ; 
but, after a time, an enemy betrayed him, he was 
imprisoned at Dumbarton, and from here taken 
to London. He was beheaded at Smithfield. 
You remember Smithfield, Betty 1 ' ' 

By this time they had, of course, passed Dum- 
barton Rock, and were approaching Greenock, 
from which town, on the Firth of Clyde, they 
took a train back to Glasgow. Leaving kind 
Mr. Gordon at the station, they set out in a 
tram to visit the cathedral. 

^^ This place looks as if you wouldn^t find 
any old history in it," chuckled John, looking 
out at the large squares, fme hotels, public build- 
ings, and shops of the second largest city in 
Great Britain. ^* Betty can't drag us back five 
or six centuries to-day! '^ 

^^ Can't I, though? That shows how much 
you know about it, John, and I'll do my worst 
just to punish you for not knowing any better. 
Hasn't Glasgow a university founded in 1450, 
and a cathedral which was begun in the twelfth 
century ? It stands, too, upon the place where 
old St. Mungo had a cell so long ago that St. 
Columba was a friend of his, and used to come 
from lona to see him. I can't think of the dates 
now, but it's true, isn't it, Mrs. Pitt? And I'll 
just tell you, John, that the Romans were here, 
too." 



26o JOHN AND BETTY'S 

^ ^ Bother the Eomans ! Wish to goodness 
they'd stayed in Rome, where they belonged! " 

'^ I'm afraid you'll have to believe Betty, 
John, for it's all true," said Mrs. Pitt, as they 
left the tram and ascended the High Street 
toward the cathedral. 

^^ Betty didn't know, either, that a famous 
scene in ^ Rob Roy ' took place just behind us, 
near the old Tolbooth; or that Queen Mary's 
last battle of Langside was fought and lost not 
far from Glasgow ; and that James VI and 
Cromwell lodged in the Saltmarket. The his- 
tory is here, John, but there's little in Glas- 
gow's streets to recall it, so your mind may be 
almost at rest, I think." 

On a Saturday afternoon it is a none too 
agreeable thing to walk the poorer streets of 
Glasgow, in the vicinity of the cathedral. If it 
happens also to be payroll day, the drunkenness 
of both men and women is a sight to strike ter- 
ror to a much stouter heart than Betty's. She, 
Mrs. Pitt, and Barbara were very much relieved 
to escape to a teashop of fashionable Sauchie- 
hall Street, after their visit to Glasgow's fine 
cathedral. 

The following day was an unusually bright 
and beautiful one for gloomy Glasgow. After 
luncheon, they took a tram and rode until they 
reached a lovely residential section of Glasgow, 
in which are situated the University, the Art 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 261 

Galleries, and spacious Kelvingrove Park. 
Within this park the Glasgow Exhibition was 
then being held. Having been formally opened 
on the third of May by H.R.H., the Duke of 
Connaught, the Exhibition presented an ad- 
mirable attempt to ^' preserve the Scottish 
National spirit/' as was the wish of its 
founders. 

^^ In comparison with some of the Exhibitions 
you have had in America, this is very unpre- 
tentious, I admit.'' They had bought tickets, 
and were entering the grounds as Mrs. Pitt 
spoke. ** But there's one thing which I am 
sure you will agree with me is worth coming 
far to see, ' ' she went on. ^ ' That is the Palace 
of History. There will probably never be an- 
other chance to see so many objects of inestima- 
ble value and interest together under one roof. 
These have been sent from all over the country, 
from museums and from private collections 
everywhere, and the great wonder to me is that 
the authorities dared to take such a responsi- 
bility. But you'll soon see for yourself." 

On their way to the large central court, sur- 
rounded by its many white buildings, they went 
through a clever reproduction of a medieval 
Scotch town, with its gabled houses, town cross, 
old castle tower, and tiny shops. A Highland 
clachan or hamlet was complete, with its smithy, 
its schools for lace-making, and for the manu- 



262 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

facture of bagpipes and of baskets. On a 
bench, near a little burn, a man in a kilt was 
taking a lesson on the bagpipes, which here 
sounded quite as weird as when they had heard 
them amid real Highland surroundings. There 
was a '^ black hut," or type of oldtime crofter's 
cottage, with a roof made all of heather held 
down by stones, except at the flat edge where 
there was a little straw. Inside were two 
rooms, one of which had a peat fire on a raised 
place in the center of the floor. They were glad 
to escape from the choking atmosphere, but an 
old woman in a stiff white cap did not seem 
to mind it in the least. 

^ * See ! ' ' said Betty, * * here 's a modern im- 
proved hut with spandy clean whitewash and 
the neatest thatched roof I ever saw. They're 
very nice," she added, with a superior air of 
one who had traveled widely, ''' except when 
you've seen the real ones up north." 

Following the little stream, they came to a 
place where was floating the most curious pro- 
cession of tiny model ships. 

* ' Will you look ! ' ' cried John, running on 
ahead. ^^ There's every kind of a ship that 
ever was, from Columbus's great clumsy junk, 
to the Lusitania. They're bully! Wait a sec- 
ond until I can look them over ! ' ' 

Outside the Palace of History a crowd had 
gathered, they found, and, upon inquiry, Mrs. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 263 

Pitt was told that the doors were just 
then closed because the Crown Prince and 
Princess of Sweden were looking at the 
exhibits. 

^ ^ Fancy that ! ' ' exclaimed Barbara. ' ' Do 
let's wait here, Mother, and see them come out. 
She's a daughter of the Duke of Connaught, 
isn't she! " 

^' Oh, is she? Then I want to see her, too ! " 
This came from Betty, who had been the Duke's 
great admirer ever since the pretty review at 
St. James's Palace. 

It was disappointing to be able to see only the 
tops of the silk hats worn by the Crown Prince 
and his escorts, and a large hat with a simple 
flower trimming; but the crowd hopelessly shut 
off their view, and soberly they turned away to 
enter the neighboring building, now thrown 
open to the waiting public. 

Mrs. Pitt had not exaggerated the wonderful 
things that they found inside. To see and en- 
joy them all one would have needed to come 
many times. Barbara revelled in the collection 
of antique furniture, particularly the old chairs 
carved with initials or dates or strange pat- 
terns. Philip spent the entire afternoon por- 
ing over the exquisite bookplates. John, lack- 
ing devotion to any special line, first examined 
the curious old Ballantyne Press on which 
^' Waverley " was printed; then marveled at 



264 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

the illegibility of some of Scott's and Burns 's 
manuscripts; now he had discovered some an- 
cient iron relics of the battle of Bannockburn; 
now an attendant had called his attention to the 
original Brooch of Lome, which the Bruce lost 
from his plaid in 1306. 

As for Mrs. Pitt and Betty, who always en- 
joyed the same things, they walked about arm 
in arm, seldom speaking except to call atten- 
tion to some new treasure. No sooner had Mrs. 
Pitt discovered a lovely brooch made of red, 
green, and white enamel in the shape of a rose, 
which had had its place in Mary Queen of Scots' 
jewel case, than Betty saw a wonderful little 
portrait of that Queen when a child. Silently 
she went toward it, and, as she stood there, 
more and more of a spell did the portrait cast 
over her. 

*^ Isn't it beautiful? " she whispered. ** Mary 
was only four years old when it was painted. 
Just think! You can look right into her big, 
round blue eyes, though, and somehow you un- 
derstand Mary better. Did you ever see such 
big eyes, such round and blue ones! I believe 
Mary knew about her life; she looks as if she 
did, anyhow. I think that she knew that she 
was going to be very beautiful, and that every- 
body was going to fall in love with her, and go 
right on spoiling her, until she began to do 
things that she oughtn't to have done. There 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 265 

was that dreadfully wicked mother-in-law in 
France, too. What was her name! Don't you 
think it was dreadful that little Queen Mary 
should have known it all so long ahead? Don't 
you pity her, too, Mrs. Pitt? '' 

And, as she stood and studied the portrait, 
Mrs. Pitt did pity Mary Stuart more than she 
ever had before. It was some minutes before 
they could pass the picture by. 

Then they found Annie Laurie's will, and the 
original manuscript of '' Kenilworth," and the 
charter granted by King David I for the found- 
ing of Melrose Abbey, and the ^^ Whistle 0' 
Worth." 

At last they halted before the National 
Covenant, fortunately coming up just as an at- 
tendant was uncovering it, which he did only 
once an hour. 

* * Not a copy, but the real one ! ' ' Betty kept 
saying to herself, — ^' the real one that they 
signed in Greyfriars Churchyard. Some of 
them wrote their names in blood. ' ' 

^* Yes," said John, ** I think maybe that's 
true. Some of these names still look red. ' ' He 
had stepped to the other side of the glass-case, 
which showed the back of the faded old docu- 
ment, covered by a mass of signatures, a few of 
which are still legible. 

' ' Come here a minute. There 's something I 
want to show you in the next room. ' ' 



266 JOHN AND BETTY 

But Betty shook her head. ^' You'll have to 
excuse me, Barbara; I simply can't take in an- 
other thing," she said wearily. And all the 
way home in the tram she sat brooding over the 
wonderful things in that Palace of History. 



CHAPTEE EIGHTEEN 

IN THE BURNS COUNTRY 

** Whatever is that! It sounds like sing- 
ing! '' 

Barbara stood still and listened. It certainly 
was mnsic wtiicli floated down ttie hillside to 
where Mrs. Pitt and the others were wandering, 
close to the river Doon. 

High above the river bank, with its all too 
modern tea gardens, crowded on that Saturday 
with tourists and holiday makers, stands the 
Burns Monument; soon discovering that the 
music came from that direction, Mrs. Pitt led 
the way up the steep path. 

They found it impossible to go inside the lit- 
tle memorial building, for the room was 
thronged. Men and women were gathered 
about the statue of Burns, singing with deepest 
feeling, ^* Ye Banks and Braes o' Bonnie 
Doon.'' It was a most unexpected scene. Here 
were people of the working-class, — women pale 
and bent by toil, men with hard, seamed faces — 
all of whom had forgotten their burdens, and 
were putting their whole souls into this tribute 

267 



268 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

to the beloved poet. Heads were uncovered, 
faces turned upwards in joy, or bowed to hide 
quick tears ; no one thought of ridicule, no one 
failed to join in the chorus. The verses fin- 
ished, caps were tossed high, and three rousing 
cheers given for ' * Rabbie ' ' Burns ; then the 
people went back to their picnic parties by the 
river. 

Mrs. Pitt was openly wiping away her tears, 
Betty was in the midst of a frantic search for 
her handkerchief, and even John's voice was a 
bit husky as he said abruptly, ^^ Come on back 
tothe AuldBrig." 

** This is where the witches caught hold of 
Tam's horse's tail, isn't iti " Betty's eyes 
were dancing once more as she remembered the 
poem which she had re-read only the evening 
before. 

*^ The witches had stopped dancing in the 
auld kirk, you know; their lights all went out 
suddenly, and they started to chase poor Tarn, 
who was riding his horse, Meg. Tam was trying 
to reach the middle of this high old bridge, — 
just where I'm standing this very moment. He 
thought that no witches could cross running 
water, you know. I love the way the poem tells 
it, though! '^ and Betty quoted: 

** 'And in an instant all was dark; 

And scarcely had he Maggie rallied. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 269 

When out the hellish legion sallied. 

As bees bizz out wi' angry fyke, 

When plundering herds assail their byke; 

As open pussie's mortal foes, 

When, pop! she starts before their nose; 

As eager runs the market-crowd, 

When " Catch the thief! " resounds aloud; 

So Maggie runs, the witches follow, 

Wi' mony an eldritch skriech and hollow. 

Ah, Tarn! ah, Tam! thou'U get thy fairin! 

In hell they'll roast thee like a herrin! 

In vain thy Kate awaits thy 

Kate soon will be a woefu' woman! 

Now, do thy speedy utmost, Meg, 

And win the key-stane o' the brig; 

There, at them thou thy tail may toss, 

A running stream they darena cross. 

But ere the key-stane she could make, 

The fient a tail she had to shake! 

For Nannie, far before the rest. 

Hard upon noble Maggie prest. 

And flew at Tam wi' furious ettle; 

But little wist she Maggie's mettle! 

Ae spring brought off her master hale, 

But left behind her ain gray tail : 

The carlin claught her by the rump. 

And left poor Maggie scarce a stump.'" 

They loitered some time on the big new 
bridge, from which is a charming view of the old 
bridge, its high arch spanning one of the pret- 
tiest, clearest streams imaginable, flowing be- 
tween banks of ferns and wild flowers. John, 
as usual, was trying for a photograph, and, the 



270 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

day being somewhat cloudy, the sun came out 
but once in a while. Not for some minutes did 
it touch the ^^ auld brig/' but John stood pa- 
tiently waiting, camera focused and bulb in 
hand. Finally, during a bright ray of sunshine, 
the shutter clicked; then, with a grunt of satis- 
faction, John told them, '' That picture '11 be a 
corker, all right ! ' ' 

The haunted ruin of old Alloway Kirk stands 
only at a stone's throw from the river; the 
walls alone remain of this famous scene of the 
witches' revels. 

^^ It was unroofed and fast going to decay, 
even in Burns 's time, ' ' Mrs. Pitt told them. 

*^ They say, don't they, that in storms the 
witches even nowadays dance in the kirk while 
Tam rides by ! " 

^^ Honestly, it isn't so very hard to imagine 
witches in there! " and Betty shuddered a bit. 

* * No, I should say not ! What Tam ought to 
have done was to have ridden for his life when 
he saw the red lights and those fellows dancing. 
I'd have hustled my horse back to the town, in- 
stead of staying to watch 'em. Tam was a 
fool!" 

Here was some proof of the genuine horror 
of Tam's situation, if even John confessed that 
his courage would have failed him under sim- 
ilar circumstances. He was not afraid of most 
things, but he would take no chances whatever 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 271 

with witches, if he were riding a horse with a 
long tail ! 

In the tiny, neglected graveyard lie Burns 's 
father and mother. An old man with a wooden 
leg and a marvelous plaid necktie pointed out 
these graves, and recited " Tam o' Shanter " 
with remarkable expression and gesture. They 
had much trouble in escaping from him to fol- 
low the main road to Burns 's birthplace. 

Quaint and old-fashioned in its whitewash 
and thatch, this typical Scotch ' ' clay bigging ' ' 
now stands on the main street of Ayr, along 
which trams and motor cars persistently 
thunder. Entering by a wicket at one end of 
the house, where he duly pays his twopence, the 
visitor comes upon a distressingly formal and 
geometrical flower garden ; on the right is a low 
building, serving as a museum, where are ex- 
hibited many manuscripts and relics of Burns. 
Having examined these, they crossed the yard 
and went into the cottage itself, passing first 
through the byre and the stable, in which some 
rude stalls still remain. 

'^ They lived rather near the cows and 
horses, didn't they? '^ remarked Barbara, as 
she stepped across the threshold into the 
'' room.'' 

Beyond the stiff ^* room " is a tiny entry, 
from which opens the kitchen, the principal liv- 
ing-room, in which the poet was born. 



272 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

This probably looks very much as it did in 
that winter of 1759 when a violent storm is said 
to have torn away the roof of the hut, and 
forced the mother to seek shelter elsewhere for 
herself and her baby. There is still a cur- 
tained box-bed, a little whitewashed fireplace, 
some old chairs and tables, a tall corner clock, 
and a rack well stocked with blue china. 

While they waited for the tram, Mrs. Pitt 
told them a little about Eobert Burns. 

* * His father, you know, was a gardener, ' ' she 
began, ^^ and worked on a gentleman's estate; 
the family left here when Eobert was but seven 
years old, moving to a cottage on his employer 's 
land. They seem always to have been un- 
fortunate, and their small savings dwindled 
away. They moved to another farm at Tar- 
bolton, and, not long after this, the father died, 
so that Eobert, the eldest of the seven children, 
became responsible for the care of the family 
and the running of the farm. He always found 
time for writing poems, though, poems of the 
humble life with which he came in contact ; and 
about this time the poems were published in 
book form. This Kilmarnock edition, of which 
Burns himself paid all the expenses, was so 
successful that a famous Edinburgh publisher 
was soon found. His work continuing to be in 
demand. Burns felt himself in better circum- 
stances, and even lent a sum of money to one 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 273 

of his brothers. With his wife and children he 
moved to Ellisland Farm, where he spent his 
happiest days. ^ Tam o ' Shanter ' was written 
during this time. I shall take you to Ellisland, 
I think. But Burns 's money was soon ex- 
hausted, and he was obliged to move his fam- 
ily into the town of Dumfries, where he held the 
position of government exciseman at a salary 
of seventy pounds a year. It was at Dumfries 
that he died, as youVe read. Wasn't it a com- 
monplace life for a poet 1 ' ' 

'' Why, it's as bad as Stratford, isn't it? " 
cried John, when the tram had carried them 
back to Ayr, about two miles away. ^^ Every 
single thing is called Tam o ' Shanter, or Souter 
John, or Burns. There's a window full of 
postals of all of 'em; here's a sign telling you 
you must drink ' Souter John Tea ' ; and down 
there's an inn with Tam over the doorway." 

*^ Yes, it even claims to be the very inn at 
which Tam was drinking on that eventful night 
in his career. They'll show you the chair and 
the cup that he used. Fancy ! ' ' Mrs. Pitt was 
leading the way towards the river, where they 
saw the ^* Twa Brigs o' Ayr." 

Burns has written a delightful poem about 
these old bridges; in his time the new bridge 
had just been finished, and stood beside its rival, 
which dates from the fifteenth century. In 
Burns 's opinion the new structure possessed 



274 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

such undue pride that it one day remarked to 
its comrade : 



" Will your poor, narrow foot-path of a street, 
Where twa wheel-barrows tremble when they meet, 
Your ruin'd, formless bulk o' stane and lime, 
Compare wi' bonnie brigs o' modern time ? " 

But the auld brig, sure of its ground, an- 
swered promptly : 

"I'll be a brig when ye're a shapeless cairn! 
As yet ye little ken about the matter, 
But twa-three winters will inform ye better. " 

'' And the auld brig's prophecy was a true 
one," added Mrs. Pitt, '' for the new bridge was 
long ago rebuilt, while the old one still stands 
in its accustomed place.'' 

Soon after this, however, they discovered that 
Burns 's name is not the only celebrated one con- 
nected with Ayr; William Wallace had been 
there, too. The great square Wallace Tower 
occupies the site of an old Tolbooth, in which 
the hero was once imprisoned. 

' ^ Wallace had been outlawed, you remember, 
because he had killed three English soldiers who 
were attempting to carry away some trout from 
his basket. Although it was dangerous, Wal- 
lace stayed not far from Ayr, and frequently 
came into the town on market days. They held 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 275 

their markets in that wide square by the sta- 
tion. Betty, an old historian tells us that Wal- 
lace used to delight in finding a strong man (an 
Englishman, of course) who was boasting of his 
prowess, and against whom he could try his own 
marvelous strength. Occasionally Wallace 
killed a man, and then he had to fight his way 
out of the to\vn. At length Percy sent eighty 
men from the castle to preserve the peace, and 
they one day caught Wallace and conducted him 
to the old Tolbooth, where he was fed upon 
* barrell heryng and watter.' '* 

" Hard luck for him when he'd been catch- 
ing trout ! ' ' put in John sympathetically. 

'' Oh, but it was hard to put down Wallace," 
continued Mrs. Pitt. ' ' When his strength was 
gone, they thought him dead, and threw him 
over the Tolbooth wall ; but an old nurse of his 
found him, and got him away to Newton-on-Ayr, 
where she soon nursed him back to good 
health.'' 

That afternoon they hired a motor car and 
went south to the ancient town of Maybole, now 
a place of glorious memory only. Once the town 
residences of the lairds of Carrick lined its 
streets where, even to-day, one sometimes finds 
interesting houses; there is a square clock 
tower, and a portion of Maybole Castle, with its 
quaint windows and carvings. This old build- 
ing is now the Estate Office for the Marquis of 



276 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

Ailsa, and Mrs. Pitt went in to inquire for a 
permit to see Culzean Castle. 

"• Luckily we are here on the one day when 
visitors are admitted, ^ ' she said, when she came 
out again. ^ ' John, tell the chauffeur we '11 start 
on now, and that we want to stop a moment at 
Crossraguel Abbey and at Kirkoswald." 

The abbey dates from the thirteenth century, 
but is not particularly noteworthy, except for 
one unusual feature, a square, battlemented 
tower. They were more interested in the little 
ruined kirk at Kirkoswald and its tiny burying- 
ground, in which they soon found the graves of 
Tam o' Shanter and Souter John, the shoe- 
maker and Tam's friend. 

^^ But why does it say Douglas Graham! " 
inquired Barbara innocently. It had never oc- 
curred to her that Tam had any other name. 

They had a delightful ramble through the 
beautiful grounds of stately Culzean Castle. 
Barbara in particular was all the time in rap- 
tures over the many varieties of roses, the vines 
and trees wonderfully trained against old brick 
walls, and the hothouses, in which they saw 
splendid grapes and figs. On and on they went 
from one inclosed garden to another. It would 
seem as if they must have come to an end, but 
there was always a picturesque iron gate or 
wicket through which one was lured by glimpses 
of more smooth lawns and gay flower-beds. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 277 

They sat for some time in a little round rock 
garden with a trellis and a tiny pool in the 
center. No one molested them; they were un- 
believably free to go wherever their fancy led. 

^* My! " cried John, all at once, " that 
Marquis, or whoever you call him, must be 
mighty easy! We could walk off with whole 
slews of his flowers and pick heaps of his 
grapes, if we liked. I haven't seen but one or 
two gardeners, and they're 'way back near the 
house. ' ' 

Culzean Castle is built high on the rocks above 
the water, and underneath are great caves, — 
caves of which Burns has written. Mrs. Pitt 
declined to explore these passages, or to allow 
the others to do so, when she heard that they 
were infested with rats. 

*^ One of the caves is called ^ The Piper's,' " 
said she, " and some think that it extends un- 
derground as far as Maybole, six miles away. 
In olden times the fairies lived there, and when 
mortals entered, they were never again heard 
from. A daring man once ventured in with his 
bagpipes; he was traced for some distance by 
the sound of his music, but he never came out 
again into the daylight." 

*^ Can I play golf to-night? " inquired John, 
when he heard that Turnberry Point had 
famous links. And he did actually play 
one game before having dinner at the elegant 



278 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

new Station Hotel, to which they had come to 
spend that Sunday. Apart from the links, a 
fragment of a castle upon a rocky headland, 
and this huge new hotel, there is nothing at 
Turnberry except a magnificent ocean view, 
with the steep, rocky island of Ailsa Craig in 
the foreground. 

The following morning they set out to find 
the ruined castle, birthplace of Robert Bruce; 
crossing the rough fields of the links, they 
tramped along the cliffs, always watching for 
the turrets of a castle. They grew tired, and 
at last began to retrace their steps. When they 
came once more to the little white lighthouse, 
they discovered a few bits of crumbling ruin, 
hardly to be distinguished from the rocks them- 
selves. 

^ ^ Poor Bruce ! ' ^ said Betty, dropping down 
upon the grass by Mrs. Pitt's side, '^ he 
wouldn't like to see his old castle now." 

* * It must have been a fine place once upon a 
time," mused Mrs. Pitt. ^' Here Bruce spent 
his childhood. His mother was Marjorie, 
Countess of Car rick, and granddaughter of 
Duncan, first Lord of Car rick. Having lost her 
first husband in the Crusades, the lady planned 
to marry whom she chose, even if she were a 
royal ward. One time when out hunting, she 
met a strange knight, liked his handsome face 
and courtly manner, and invited him to join her 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 279 

train. Coming from such a lady, the request 
was practically a command; it was, therefore, 
very surprising to have it refused. The 
Countess, somewhat angry, ordered her men to 
surround the knight, and to take him a pris- 
oner to Turnberry Castle. There, since he did 
not make love to her, the lady thoughtfully un- 
dertook the wooing herself. Of course, you 
have guessed that the knight was Eobert de 
Bruce, and that their little son was Robert, the 
Bruce. Upon his mother's death, the boy be- 
came Earl of Carrick, and, when he was begin- 
ning his great career, he very naturally looked 
to his native Carrick for support. After the 
famous incident of the industrious spider and 
its many-times-destroyed web, which occurred 
when Bruce was in exile in Ireland, he returned 
to Scotland, full of fresh courage. Coming di- 
rectly to Carrick, his first great victories were 
won here. ' ' 

'^ And now you can't find his castle unless 
you hunt for an hour," said Barbara, as they 
avoided the golf balls on their walk to the hotel. 



CHAPTEE NINETEEN 

DUMFRIES AND ITS VICINITY 

The chauffeur sMvered and turned up his 
coat-collar. The mist was clinging to his rough 
fur coat and his hair was heavy with it. Even 
those shut inside the automobile felt cold and 
uncomfortable enough, for it was a raw day 
with a sharp wind blowing the heavy Scotch 
mist. 

^^ Wish it would rain and be done with it! '' 
grumbled John, rising to put on a sweater 
under his coat, while Philip inquired whether he 
should not close a window which had been left 
open a crack. 

The party had set off bright and early from 
the Station Hotel at Dumfries, and it had re- 
quired considerable courage to start at all on 
such a morning. Even the boots, who of course 
had the interest of the garage-keeper at heart, 
could not promise them a good day; but Mrs. 
Pitt cheerily advised that they collect all their 
warmest wraps and set forth. 

The country looked very dreary; speeding 
along the hard road, they met few people, and 

280 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 281 

even the gray farmhouses, standing in the wide 
fields, had a deserted look. 

*^ It's about the lonesomest place I ever 
saw! '' Betty was saying, when the motor ear 
suddenly came to a standstill. 

*^ Hello! where are we! '' John had put his 
head out of the window and was holding a 
rather labored conversation with the grave- 
faced chauffeur. '' Can't understand him ex- 
cept something about ^ Iron Rust Church.' 
There's a church up that road. Do we get 
out? " 

** Dear me, yes! I'd quite forgotten it was 
so near ! You mean ^ Iron G-ray Church, ' John. 
We'll walk up and see it. The grass is 
disgustingly wet, but we can keep out of 
that." 

A lonelier little church could hardly exist. 
It stands at some distance from the road; only 
a few houses are visible in the surrounding 
delds, and it is difficult to believe that there can 
be enough devout Scotch people to wend their 
way towards this kirk on a Sabbath. There 
was no sign of a caretaker, so Mrs. Pitt her- 
self found the grave of Helen Walker. 

* ' When Scott drew the character of Jeanie 
Deans in ' The Heart of Midlothian,' this girl 
was his model," she explained, as they paused 
by the simple stone for which Walter Scott 
wrote the inscription. ** Very brave and beau- 



282 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

tiful she must have been to have deserved to 
be thus immortalized.'' 

Passing by a spot where the Covenanters 
fought one of their last battles, they skirted 
the tiny village of Dunscore, and at length 
slowed down near Maxwelton House. 

^^ Where Annie Laurie lived! " murmured 
Betty, looking beyond some fields to an old- 
fashioned, white house, set back among the 
large trees. 

* ^ Yes, Annie Laurie was born here, but, when 
she married James Ferguson, she lived at 
Craigdarroch House, only a short distance be- 
yond this next town of Moniaive." 

Soon they were making their way through 
the town, very Scotch and very quaint with its 
narrow, straggling street lined with one-story 
cottages, most of them proudly possessing 
scraps of bright-colored gardens. Now and 
then a barefooted child appeared at a doorway, 
or a woman, with a shawl drawn over her head, 
hurried from one cottage to the next; — and all 
the while the mist drifted steadily down. 

Set low by the side of a stream, amid beau- 
tiful lawns, trees, and flowers, Craigdarroch 
House would have been very lovely on a fine 
day. It is stately and hospitable-looking in all 
weathers, this old house, the home of the Fer- 
gusons since the thirteenth century, with its 
many windows and broad entrance steps. As 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 283 

John rang the bell, they had a glimpse through 
the open door of a fine old hall, much dis- 
ordered by housecleaning ; then they were 
turned away by a housemaid, far from cordial, 
who crisply informed them that visitors were 
not admitted as the Misses Ferguson were away 
from home. Perhaps the *' turning-out " of 
the rooms had spoiled her usually even temper. 

^^ They're very nice, both of these places,'' 
said Betty, as they passed through the gates of 
Craigdarroch House once more, '^ but I surely 
thought Annie Laurie lived in a tiny cottage 
with a thatched roof. I never knew she was a 
grand lady, and I'm just a little disappointed, 
somehow. ' ' 

** Many people have that same idea, Betty, 
but they are very wrong in thinking of Annie 
as a poor peasant girl; she was far from that. 
Her father was Sir Eobert Laurie of Maxwel- 
ton, and Annie was the oldest of his three 
daughters. She was married in 1709 to James 
Ferguson, and their son, Alexander, was the 
hero of a poem by Burns called ^ The Whistle. ' 
That famous whistle is usually kept at Craig- 
darroch House, but it's now at the Glasgow 
Exhibition. Oh, you saw it there, John? And 
you want to know its story I " 

So, while they sat in a back room at the 
Dunscore inn to which the landlord had ush- 
ered them, promising to cook some bacon and 



284 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

eggs immediately, Mrs. Pitt told them all about 
the '' Whistle o' Worth/' 

'^ Well then, once when James VI came to 
Scotland, his queen, Anne of Denmark, accom- 
panied him, and in her train was a giant Dane, 
noted for his capacity for drink. He carried 
with him a whistle made of ebony which he al- 
ways placed on the table near him to be 
sounded by the last sober man at the feast. 
Until he went to Scotland, the Dane had never 
been beaten in this strange contest; he even 
claimed to have been victorious at many for- 
eign courts, Copenhagen, Stockholm, Moscow, 
Warsaw, and some of the German provinces. 
The Scots were always able to cope with the 
best on the point of drink, but the Dane worsted 
every one till he met Sir Robert Laurie of 
Maxwelton; at the end of a famous banquet, 
the whistle was in possession of that clear- 
headed baronet. The son of Sir Robert, Sir 
Walter, also won the whistle, but it then went 
out of the family until Alexander Ferguson, 
Annie Laurie's son, carried it off for the last 
time. ' ' 

John's delight at this queer tale was only 
exceeded by his interest in the platter of bacon 
and eggs, the tea, bread and butter, and jam, 
which the landlord was placing before them. 
There seemed to be no servant at this tiny inn; 
but it was pleasant to be served by the tall 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 285 

landlord himself, and the food tasted as good 
as it only can when one has ridden many miles 
across country in a Scotch mist. 

A short run brought them to Lag Tower, 
merely a fragment of an old keep, almost hid- 
den away behind some trees on a little eleva- 
tion, but interesting as the original of Scott's 
* ^ Eedgauntlet. ' ' Friars Carse, the house where 
the contest of the whistle took place, is not far 
distant. The chauffeur seemed very doubtful 
about their being permitted to enter these pri- 
vate premises, but, leaving the motor car at the 
gate, they gayly proceeded on foot. 

'' The estate once belonged to a friend of 
Burns,'' said Mrs. Pitt, "" and the poet came 
here often. It was here that he met a gentle- 
man, named Grose, who was then writing a book 
on the ' Antiquities of Scotland.' Burns tried 
to persuade him to include a description of the 
auld Alloway kirk, which Grose finally agreed 
to do if Burns would write him a poem about it. 
A few days later Burns composed ' Tam o' 
Shanter.' " 

Their long walk up the pretty drive ended in 
a disappointment. As they came in sight of 
what was apparently a modern mansion in- 
stead of the picturesque old Friars Carse they 
were in search of, they were so resentful at the 
many additions and remodelings that they 
promptly turned their backs upon it. 



286 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

Burns 's home at Ellisland Farm they foimd 
altogether as it should be, a long, low farm- 
house with a tiny garden full of beautiful white 
iris. The place looked deserted and their 
knocks at the kitchen door met with no re- 
sponse. 

^^ What is there to see inside, Mother? Are 
we missing very much? '' 

* ' Oh, no, Barbara ; there 's the kitchen with a 
stone floor and wide hearth, a few bare little 
rooms, and, I believe, a pane of glass on which 
Burns cut his initials. He built this home, you 
know, and I've read about some of the strange 
customs here when he and Jean Armour first 
took possession. There were certain things to 
be done to insure good luck for the young 
couple which, I'm afraid, they didn't get, after 
all. With their friends all dressed in their best, 
they solemnly approached; a servant entered 
the door first, carrying the family Bible on 
which rested a bowl of salt. After this Burns 
stepped in with his bride upon his arm and, 
as they crossed the threshold, a neighbor broke 
an oatcake over the bride's head. In the even- 
ing there was probably a dance on the bright, 
smooth, new floors, and all the neighbors helped 
them to make merry. Now, come around back 
of the house a moment. I think it was on this 
path, above the little stream, that Burns wrote 
his poem about Tam. He was walking there 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 287 

when the idea came to him, and so much amused 
was he and so uproariously did he laugh that 
his wife thought he must be losing his head." 

As they came down the lane from the farm- 
house to the road, a handsome dog met them 
and then skulked off sheepishly into a field, 
behind the hedge. 

'' He looks awfully guilty!/' Betty declared; 
^^ I think his family have gone to market and 
left him to take care of the house, but he for- 
got and went oif somewhere. '^ 

The country north of Dumfries, in the val- 
ley of the Nith, is so lovely as to have been 
frequently and favorably compared with the 
famed valley of the Wye. Even on this day of 
rain and cloud which hid all distant views, they 
realized the beauty of it. The woodland was 
all green and silver, the fields rich in yellow 
grain, and along the roadsides were quantities 
of wild roses, white and pink. It seemed a pity 
to enter dingy Dumfries with its dark build- 
ings, narrow streets, and throngs of poor chil- 
dren who wear heavy copper-toed shoes which 
have neither buttons nor lacings and make a 
loud clattering on the rough pavements. 

Leaving the motor car and starting on foot in 
search of the little house in which Bums died, 
they were surrounded by swarms of these dirty 
children ; they could not have missed the house 
with so many small guides eagerly pointing 



288 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

the way. The building has a bust and an in- 
scription, and another residence of the poet, in 
Bank Street, is marked by a tablet; both are 
very humble, testifying to the poverty of the 
last days of Burns 's life. They saw the Globe 
Inn on High Street, a favorite resort of Burns, 
which still has his chair. They also noticed 
the tablet in Castle Street, showing the site of 
the altar of the ancient church of Greyfriars 
Monastery, before which Bruce murdered the 
Red Comyn. They had just time before dark 
to visit the Burns Mausoleum in the church- 
yard of St. Michael's; they thought it very 
ugly, however, its one redeeming feature being 
the familiar bas-relief of Burns at the plow, 
with the angel hovering overhead. 

During their wanderings through the newer 
part of town, they came upon the *^ Moat 
Hostel," charmingly situated near the river. 
Originally a private house, the place is now a 
dormitory for forty-seven girls who are junior 
pupils at Dumfries Academy. Betty had not 
been to boarding-school, but she meant to go 
some day, so she eagerly accepted the matron's 
offer to show them about, even though the pu- 
pils were all away for their long holiday. It 
was interesting to see the basement dining-room 
and, close by, a room with square partitions 
to hold the girls ' ^^ boxes," or trunks, and the 
' ' boot room ' ' where the pupils clean their own 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 289 

boots ; it was strange to see how many cot-beds 
are placed in one large room, each being in- 
closed by thick curtains. They saw rows of 
wardrobes, far too small to hold an American 
girl's belongings. The pupils get up very early 
in summer, and their long day ends with the 
regular study hour from seven to eight in the 
evening. 

^^ I'm glad I won't have to get up so awfully 
early! " Betty confided to Mrs. Pitt; ^^ and I 
should hate to have to sleep in the room with 
so many others, and not to have any place to 
put my things! It doesn't seem as if they had 
much fun. But there's a big room where they 
can play the piano for dancing, they have ten- 
nis courts, and of course they can always row 
on that pretty river! " 

The following day they took train to Mauch- 
line, where they found many more associations 
with Burns. As soon as they had turned into 
the quaint village street, Betty exclaimed, 
a There's Poosie Nansie's, that low brown 
building with the thatched roof. No, John, it 
is an inn, of course. Don't you love if? " 

Around the corner, in the '^ Coogate," Jean 
Armour was born. Near by was the village 
women's common drying ground, and here 
Burns first saw Jean, his dog mischievously 
carrying otf the clothes she had spread out to 
bleach. 



290 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

*^ That's no kind of a castle! '' cried John, 
surveying an ancient keep to which a much 
more modern building has been attached. ' ' If 
I'd been Burns and had wanted to be married 
in a castle, I'd have chosen a better one than 
that! " 

Here, presumably, lived Gavin Hamilton, 
Burns 's friend, in whose parlor he and Jean 
were married. A queer little walled-in walk 
leads around the castle domain, and in Castle 
Street is the thatched cottage in which Burns 
and Jean set up housekeeping. 

An old woman in the doorway was rather 
communicative. 

^^ Burns lived here, didn't he? " she was 
asked. 

'' Ay, a' think so. But," shaking her gray 
head, *^ a' wasna here then." 

They walked out to see Mossgiel Farm, a 
typical farm of the district, now as in Burns 's 
time owned by the Alexander family. The 
house sets back from the road and is sur- 
rounded by fields which are tilled just as when 
Burns, in plowing, turned up the daisy and the 
field-mouse. 

'^ There are lots of * wee crimson-tipped 
flowers ' in the tall grass," remarked Betty, 
^' but I don't see any ^ beastie.' " 

That afternoon it actually rained again, and, 
instead of taking a drive, they all partook of 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 291 

tea at an attractive shop. As a result, no 
one was hungry when dinner-time came, and 
the tiny drawing-room grate, its pile of coal 
hedged in with neat white paper, was at length 
induced to burst into a blaze. It was most 
discouraging at first. So damp was it that when 
a waiter held a match against the paper, it 
flickered and immediately went out. Once 
more he struck a light and laid the match 
on the bar of the iron grate, its burning end 
against the paper. After a long pause, during 
which Mrs. Pitt and the others sat breathless, 
the paper did catch and a cheerful blaze finally 
broke forth. 

Here they were comfortably reading and 
chatting, having almost forgotten their guilty 
attempts to escape the tiresome table d'hote, 
when the door opened and the tall, imperious 
head-waiter entered. Straightway taking in 
the whole situation, he scowled and announced 
sternly, '' Dinner, when you are ready. Mad- 
am.'' They were all afraid of him, even Mrs. 
Pitt. They said nothing, but they went; and 
when they came back to the drawing-room, their 
fire had gone out. Such are the trials of 
travelers ! 



CHAPTER TWENTY 



JUST OVEB THE BORDER 



'* I'm a Ferguson, once from Perthshire but 
kenned here for five hundred years/' 

Such was the quaint answer given by the old 
guide when Mrs. Pitt asked if he were a Max- 
well, of the family to which the castle has al- 
ways belonged. They had sought him out at 
his cottage, which stood close by the great 
building with its double moat. 

Built on level ground, near the sea, Caer- 
laverock Castle could have had no means of 
protection other than its own thick walls, its 
two moats, and three portcullises. Its odd 
shape is that of a triangle, each side being one 
hundred and twenty-three feet long, so the 
guide told them; and he added, ^* This castle's 
built on a rock, so it still stands, but it was all 
over when Cromwell came in 1640 with his 
guns." 

There are broken pieces of carving near the 
entrance and on one is the motto of the power- 
ful Maxwell family, to which the present 
Duchess of Norfolk belongs: *^ I bid you fair; 

292 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 293 

I give you welcome." The castle was built in 
1093, but was changed much, additions being 
made in 1638 when the wall of one side of the 
three-cornered courtyard was refaced. Above 
the entrance to this last addition is the Maxwell 
coat of arms, while over its windows are carved 
the arms of various families with which the 
Maxwells were allied; there is the double eagle 
of the Herries, and the fleur-de-lis of the Guise. 
Across the back side of the triangle ran a ban- 
quet-hall one hundred feet long; over this was 
the chapel, and at one end was the Eoyal Tower 
in which the Duke of Albany, who attempted to 
poison his brother, King James, was im- 
prisoned for seven years before being finally be- 
headed at Stirling. 

^^ See all the flowers growing against the old 
banquet-hall walls ! ' ' cried Barbara ; ' ' I see 
St. John's-wort, many kinds of roses, and lots 
of others." 

'* There's some fine — ^what do you call it? 
Teazel? " inquired John. 

^ ' Ay, but there 's something finer, Scotty ! ' ' 
replied the old attendant, touching an enormous 
Scotch thistle with his stick. 

They then saw, in the third side of the tri- 
angle, what are known as the '^ gentlemen's 
reading-room " and the ^' ladies' reading- 
room," surely unheard-of luxuries in most old 
castles of the period. As they stepped into 



294 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

their carriage, the guide pointed out the an- 
cient ' ' Hill of Judgment ' ' where the Maxwells 
used to try their prisoners. 

^^ Seems as if that castle's familiar, some- 
how," declared Betty, glancing back at it as 
they drove away. ^ ' Has anybody written about 
it, Mrs. Pitt? '' 

^' Yes, dear, Scott wrote about it, calling it 
^ Ellengowan ' in his ' Guy Mannering.' You 
must be thinking of that." 

On their way back to Dumfries, they passed 
through the little village of Bankend, where are 
many quaint thatched roofs. All the neat, one- 
story houses have miniature gardens; roses 
were everywhere! They noticed one big pile 
of peat, of which there is a little in this south- 
western section. Particularly noticeable are 
the great fields of potatoes with their pretty 
lavender and white blossoms. The fields were 
full of women on their knees. Women do much 
of the hard work in Scotland. On the road they 
passed one with her skirts tucked up high above 
her dingy petticoat, a bag slung across her 
shoulders, and a huge sunbonnet which flopped 
in the breeze. They wondered if she could be 
the '' post girl." 

The next morning their train was stopping 
at a little junction when Betty looked out and 
exclaimed, ^ ^ I think these station platform gar- 
dens are perfectly lovely, don't you? Who 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 295 

takes care of them, Mrs. Pitt? They're just 
as neat and nice as any private garden, even 
if they are right along by the railroad. I see 
Canterbury bells, larkspurs, sweet williams, 
foxgloves, snapdragons, and iris! " 

^ ^ And the pansies ! ' ' put in John quickly. 
*^ Never saw such dandies! " 

The party was actually en route for Gretna 
Green, which is just over the border ; that very 
night they would be in England again, at 
* ^ merry Carlisle. ' ' They hardly knew whether 
to be glad or sorry. 

As the train sped on they talked of the old 
feuds and border wars, which resulted in fierce 
encounters between men of the south side and 
those of the north. 

^' Between the recognized Scotch and Eng- 
lish border lay a strip of land belonging to 
neither country," said Mrs. Pitt. '^ The set- 
tlers of this Debatable Land were called Eat- 
ables, and, naturally enough, they were refugees, 
men who had been outlawed by one or both 
countries. These are the men whom Scott de- 
scribes in ' The Lay of the Last Minstrel,' who 

"^Bought the beeves, that made their broth, 
In Scotland and in England both.' 

They, and also many men, both Scotch and 
English, who did not live on this particular 



296 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

strip of land, spent their time in making raids 
into the enemies^ country and carrying off cat- 
tle upon which they lived." 

^^ Jolly enough! " interrupted John. ** Did 
they do that all the time! " 

** Oh, there were days, of course, when the 
* Lord Wardens of England and Scotland, and 
Scotland and England ' met midway, on this no 
man's land, to hear complaints from both sides 
and to deal out a certain kind of justice. It 
was understood that no one could be arrested 
on these occasions, but two hundred English- 
men pursued a man named Willie Armstrong 
(or Kinmont Willie) and brought him to Car- 
lisle. He had been harrying the countryside for 
so long that they could not resist the tempta- 
tion of capturing him when they had the op- 
portunity. 

" ' have ye no heard o' the fause Sakelde? 

have ye no heard o' the keen Lord Seroope? 
Now they hae ta'en bould Kinmont Willie, 
On Haribee to hang him up ? ' " 

** And did they hang him up? " burst out 
John. 

'' No, the Scottish warden, Sir Walter Scott 
of Buccleuch, could not bear this; he made his 
way, with his men, into Carlisle and rescued 
Kinmont Willie from his cell on the very night 
before the expected hanging. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 297 

** Have any of you read the old ballad called 
' The Hunting of the Cheviot 'V added Mrs. 
Pitt, and hearing no response, she went on, ' ' It 
deals with Henry Percy, son of the Earl of 
Northumberland, whom the Scots called ^ Hot- 
spur * because of his liking hot and sudden raids 
across the border. Failing of a bloody en- 
counter, he would simply carry off some of the 
enemies ' cattle or burn a village or two. There 
was very great rivalry (though that's a mild 
word to apply to it), between these English 
Percys and the Scotch Douglas's. This ballad 
tells in its quaint old English of a famous raid 
made by Percy of Bamborough Castle, into the 
lands of the Black Douglas." 

<< Why was he black? " asked John, when 
there came a pause. 

** Scott, in his ' Tales of a Grandfather,' 
tells us that it was because he was ^ tall, strong, 
and well-made, of a swarthy complexion, with 
dark hair.' His name was William Douglas, 
lord of Nithsdale, and he died in 1390, so you 
now have an idea of the period described in this 
famous ballad." 

*^ How long did the border wars last, please, 
Mrs. Pitt? " 

^* For many centuries, Betty, until the two 
great kingdoms became one, at least in name. 
The wars were very cruel and the attacks might 
come at any time ; the poor people had to resort 



298 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

to many strange means of protection. At the 
signal of the approach of English foes from 
across the border, the Scotch would leave their 
huts and take to the morasses or, sometimes, tO 
caves hewn in the rock in sheltered or inac- 
cessible places. There are still a few such caves 
in existence; I believe those at Hawthornden 
are thought by some to have served this very 
purpose. Then, you remember the many bor- 
der peels that were built for the people's safety; 
they are scattered all over the southern part of 
the country. That old tower at Smailholm is an 
excellent example." 

Their train, one which stopped at the small- 
est stations, was even slower than usual on this 
day. It stopped often, stood long at junctions, 
and it was not until they noticed many heavy 
trains going northwards, that they realized the 
reason for their delay. 

'' Why, it's the twelfth of August, Mother! 
We might have known ! ' ' 

''My word!" exclaimed Mrs. Pitt; *' the 
twelfth of August! That does explain it, 
surely! It's the day that the shooting in Scot- 
land begins, John. If we were at Euston or 
King's Cross or St. Pancras Stations in London, 
we should see many long trains packed with 
sportsmen. Coaches go straight through to 
Perth or Aberdeen or Inverness, and seats are 
booked far in advance. Yes, we are leaving 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 299 

Scotland just as the English are flocking to it, 
just as the busy season is beginning. Here we 
are at Gretna Green, at last! Let down that 
window by you, John; Philip, don't forget your 
umbrella in the rack! '' 

Gretna Green is an attractive little village 
with a real green and beyond, Gretna Hall, said 
to have been the scene of the first hasty mar- 
riages. The blacksmith's shop, so far-famed, is 
a low whitewashed building. Outside stood a 
queer cart, flat across the top, with a square 
opening into which the driver puts his feet. 
Looking in the low doorway, they saw the smith 
at work over the farmer 's horse. 

'' But what has a blacksmith's shop got to 
do with people who ran away to be married? " 

^^ Everything, John. I'll tell you how the 
shop and its smith happened to play such a 
big part. At a time when a strict law was 
passed in England forbidding ' fleet,' or run- 
away marriages, some one discovered that more 
lax rules prevailed in Scotland. After this 
many made hurried trips across the border. 
In the eighteenth century the only way of 
traveling about the country was by means of 
coaches, and many of the old coach routes ended 
at Carlisle, only nine miles away. It was very 
easy to hire a pair of swift horses and be 
whisked over the sands to Gretna Green. So 
many impatient couples did this that there 



300 JOHN AND BETTY'S 

were not ministers enough to attend to them 
all. Other men, therefore, called themselves 
ministers and were always in readiness to per- 
form any number of hasty ceremonies in a day. 
Among these, the blacksmith became a very 
popular man; when a chaise drove up to his 
door here, he would leave his work, marry the 
pair speedily, and doubtless receive a large tip 
if he finished before the stern parents were able 
to overtake the young people. Thus it was that 
this town and its blacksmith's shop became so 
famous. Scott, Thackeray, and many other 
writers have given us pictures of runaway mar- 
riages at Gretna Green." 

'' The shop isn't a bit pretty, though," Betty 
reflected, '^ and truly, I shouldn't like to be 
married there. Perhaps it had vines growing 
over it when it was so famous, though; then it 
wouldn't have been so bad. Just think; if it 
was only like that dear blacksmith shop at 
Cockington, near Torquay! How adorable to 
be married under a thatched roof! " 

'' Silly! " exclaimed John. '' Do you sup- 
pose they cared what the place looked like as 
long as they had no bothering father, mother, 
or uncles and things to interfere? " 

And so they walked back to the tiny station, 
and sat down to wait for the Carlisle train. 

'^ After all, there's nothing like our own 
England! " said Barbara, smiling. 



SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 301 

*' Scotland's much jollier! '' said John en- 
thusiastically. 

*' Oh, I just love them both! '' cried Betty, 
hugging Mrs. Pitt's arm. '^ But I don't want 
our lovely trip to be all over! Will you take 
us over to Ireland sometime, Mrs. Pitt? '^ 



THE END 



BIBLIOGRAPHY 

The following books were found helpful by the author dur- 
ing her travels in Scotland while gathering material for "John 
and Betty's Scotch History Visit": 

History of the Highlands and Highland Clans — James Browne. 

Baronial and Ecclesiastical Antiquities of Scotland — Billings. 

Edinburgh — Oliphant Smeaton. 

Superstitions of the Western Highlands — Campbell. 

Traditions of Edinburgh — Robert Chambers. 

The Land of Heather — Clifton Johnson. 

A Summer in Skye — Alexander Smith. 

Castles and Keeps of Scotland — Frank Roy Fraprie. 

Literary Tours in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland — 

D. T. Holmes. 
The Highlands and Islands — A. R. Hope Moncrieff. 
The Burns Country — C. S. Dougall. 
Byeways of Scottish History — George Eyre-Todd. 
Old JVorld Scotland: Glimpses of Its Modes and Manners — 

T. F. Henderson. 
A Itavona — Blackie. 

Scotland {Story of the Nations Series) — ^Mackintosh. 
The Misty Isle of Skye — J. A. Macculloch. 
The Children's Book of Edinburgh — Elizabeth Grierson. 
Scotland for Children — Mrs. Oliphant. 



302 



INDEX 



" Abbey-Kirk of Halirude," 

173 
"Abbot, The," 138, 179 
Abbotsford, 216 
Aberdeen, 135 
Albany, Duke of, 187 
Argyll, Duke of, 45, 51, 69, 

73, 107 
Argyll, Marquis of, 159, 187 
Armour, Jean, 286, 289 
Arthur, Prince, 26 
Arthur's Seat, 153, 227 
"Athens, the Modern," 152 

Baliol, John, 210, 258 

" Ballengeich, Gudeman of," 

176, 243 
Balmerino, Lord, 37 
Bane, Donald, 162, 192 
Bannockburn, 245 
Barrie, J. M., 124 
Beaton, Cardinal, 133 
"Beefeaters," 23, 27 
Ben Cruaehan, 54, 56 
Ben Nevis, 112 
Blackwood, William, 152 
Bond Street, 10 
"Boot Hill," 115 
Bothwell, Earl of, 138, 227 
Bran, 67, 89 
Bruce, The Heart of, 141, 

213, 233 
Bruce, Robert, 141, 207, 229, 

239, 245, 257, 278, 288 
Buchanan, Greorge, 198 
Burns, Robert, 272, 285, 287, 

289 



Canmore, King Malcolm, 60, 

161, 233 
Canmore, Queen Margaret, 

45, 141, 148, 161, 186, 192, 
Canongate, The, 149, 174, 

178 
Carnegie, Andrew, 142 
Castle-hill, Edinburgh, 158 
Cawdor Castle, 51, 100 
Chapel, Queen Margaret's, 

160 
" Charing Cross of the High- 
lands," 35 
Charles II, 175 
Charlie, Prince, 37, 61, 79, 

211, 220 
" Clach-na-can," 67 
Clans, Highland, 60 
Clarence House, 26 
Clyde, The River, 253 
Coldstream Guards, 210 
Colin Campbell of Glenorchy, 

53 
Connaught, Duke of, 23, 25, 

27, 33, 189, 263 
Constable, Alexander, 152 
"Coolins." 81, 85 
Covenanters, The, 198, 210 
Cowgate, The, 150 
Craigmillar Castle, 151, 153 
Crinan Canal, 39 
Cromwell, Oliver, 169, 210, 

292 
Crown Prince and Princess of 

Sweden, 27 
Cuchullin, 85 
Culloden Moor, 37, 107 



Caledonian Canal, 110 
Calton Hill, 143, 152, 164 
Campbell, Clan, 54, 93 



Darnley, Lord, 138, 154, 167, 

175, 201 
David I, 148, 265 



303 



304 



INDEX 



"David Garrick," 32 
Deans, Jeanie, 155, 281 
"Den, The," 121 
Disarming Act, 38 
Douglas, Archibald, ( " Bell 

the Cat"), 227 
" Douglas Black Dinner," 169 
Douglas, Earl of, 169 
Douglas, George, 133, 138 
Douglas, Lord James, 233 
Douglas, Lord and Lady, 138 
Douglas, William, " The 

Black," 297 
Douglas, Willie, 139 
Dryburgh Abbey, 222 
Duart Castle, 50 
Dumbarton Castle, 160 
Duncan, King, 46, 105, 116 
Dunfermline, 148 
Dunnottar Castle, 165 
Dunollie Castle, 51, 67, 73 
Dunscaich Castle, 85 
Dunstaffnage Castle, 67 
Dunvegan, 80, 84, 111 
Dunvegan Castle, 92 

Edinburgh Castle, 156 
Edward I, 69, 133, 210, 

258 
Eigg, Island of, 73 
Eildon Hills, 212 
Erraid, Island of, 41 
Esk, The Eiver, 231 
Esplanade, Edinburgh Castle, 

156 

"Fair Maid of Perth," 115 
Fairy Brig, 84, 97 
Fairy Flag, 95 
Fairy Tower, 94 
Fingal, 48, 67, 84 
Fingal's Cave, 38, 48 
Fingalians, The, 86 
Flodden Field, 184, 206, 

257 
Forbes-Robertson, 31 
Fort Augustus, 110 
Fort William, 110 
Forth Bridge, 142 
Forth, Firth of, 142 



Gaelic, 36, 62 

Gallery of the Kings, The, 

175 
Gardens, Princes Street, 147 
Geddes, Jenny, 188, 203 
George IV, 152, 166, 217, 244 
George V, 21, 29, 33, 69 
German Crown Princess, 33 
Giant's Causeway, 48 
Glamis Castle, 116 
Glencoe Pass, 55 
Golf, 128 

Graeme, Roland, 139, 179 
Grampian Mountains, 114 
Grassmarket, The, 169 
" Graveyard, Old Calton," 151 
Gretna Green, 295, 299 
"Greyfriars Bobby," 200 
Grey friars Church, 196 
Guise, Mary of, 168 

Half -Moon Battery, 164 
Hamilton, Duchess of, 175 
Heriot, George, 181, 194 
Heriot's Hospital, 193 
High Street, 146, 149, 178 
" Hill of the Fairies," 109 
"Hogmanay Night," 126 
Holyrood Palace, 148, 153, 

171, 196 
Horse Guards, 12, 16, 20 
Hume, David, 152 
Hyde Park, 14 

Inverness, 108 
lona Cathedral, 46 
lona, Island of, 35, 42, 69 
Irving, Sir Henry, 103 

James I, 114, 197 

James II, 244 

James III, 133, 174, 227 

James IV, 169, 184, 196, 205 

James V, 172, 175, 208, 242 

James VI, 168, 181, 240, 260, 

284 
Jedburgh, 211 
John, Prince. 20 
Johnson, Dr., 94, 178, 228 
Jonson, Ben, 228 
"Julius Caesar," 32 



INDEX 



305 



Kelso, 211 
Kendal, Mrs., 32 
Kenneth II, 69, 115 
Kerrera, 34, 37 
"Kidnapped," 41, 242 
Kilehurn Castle, 53 
Kilmarnock, Lord, 37 
Kinross, 135, 139 
Kirkoswald, 276 
Kitchener, Lord, 21 
Knox, John, 133, 179, 181, 
188, 203 

"Lady of the Lake, The," 

217, 247, 249 
Lady Rock, 51 
"Lands," 146 
"Lang Gait, The," 151 
Laurie, Annie, 265, 282 
Lawnmarket, 182 
"Lay of the Last Minstrel, 

The," 213, 217, 295 
Lincoln, Abraham, 152 
" Little Minister, The/' 124 
Loch Awe, 54 
Loch Etive, 69 
Loch Katrine, 251 
Lochleven, 135 
Lochleven Castle, 257 
Loch Lomond, 250 
Loch Maree, 97 
Loch Ness, 110 
Lora, Falls of, 70 
"Lord of the Isles, The," 68 
Lord Mayor, 23, 31 
Lords of the Isles, 62 
Lome, Broach of, 68 
Lome, Lords of, 68 
Lovat, Lord, 37, 107 
Lucy, Sir Thomas, 112 

Macalpine, Kenneth, 69, 115 
Macbeth, 46, 105, 116 
Macdonald, Clan, 55, 62, 67, 

73 
Macdonald, Flora, 79 
Macgregor, Clan, 54 
Maclaren, Ian, 126 
Malcolm III, 131 
Mansfield, Earl of, 115 



Maree, Eileen, 98 
Margaret, Queen, 239 
Marlborough, Duchess of, 32 
"Marmion," 205 
Martyrs' Monument, 198 
Mary, Princess, 20, 22 
Mary, Queen, 21, 29, 33 
Mary, Queen of Scots, 137, 

154, 160, 167, 175, 182, 
187, 197, 211, 220, 227, 
238, 240, 257, 260, 264 

McLean, Clan, 46, 50 

McLean Cross, 45 

McLeod, Clan, 73, 92 

Melfort Pass, 64 

Melrose, 141, 209, 212, 225 

Melrose Abbey, 212 

Mercat Cross, 183, 188, 205, 

246 
"Merry Wives of Windsor," 

31 
"Midlothian, The Heart of," 

155, 183, 221, 281 
Moil Castle, 74 
Mons Meg, 160 
Montrose, Marquis of, 185, 

187, 221 
Morris, Tom, 132 
Mound, The, 143 
" Muckle-Mouthed Meg," 222 
Mull, Island of, 36, 40 

Nairn, 100 

National Gallery, 151 

National Monument, 152 

Nelson's Monument, 164 

Netherbow Port, 149 

"Nor' Loch," 148, 151, 158 

North Berwick, 205, 209 

Oban, 34, 66, 73 
" Old King Cole," 46 
"One-o'clock Gun," 164, 170 
Ossian, 55, 71, 84 

Palace Yard, Old, 165 
Patricia, Princess, 33 
Parliament Hall, 169 
Parliament Square, 145, 181 
Peat, 77, 82 



3o6 



INDEX 



Percy, Henry ( " Hotspur " ) , 

297 
Perth, 114 
Portree, 72, 76 
Prince of Wales, 20, 22, 64, 

189 
Princes Street, 143, 190, 201, 

227 

Queen's Drive, The, 153 
Queensberry House, 177 
Queensferry, 142 

Eamsay, Allan, 198 
Regalia, Scottish, 70, 165 
Regent's Park, 14 
Rizzio, David, 175, 177 
Roberts, Lord, 21 
Rock, Edinburgh Castle, 147 
Roslin, 231, 234, 237 
Rosslyn Chapel, 220, 232, 

235 
Roy, Rob, 221, 250 
Royal High School, 152 
Royal Scots, 144 

St. Andrews, 128, 209 
St. Andrews Castle, 133 
St. Andrews Cathedral, 131 
St. Andrews University, 131, 

134 
St. Clair, Earl of, 233, 235 
St. Clair, the Line of, 233 
St. Columba, 42, 259 
St. Giles' Cathedral, 143, 181, 

186, 203 
St. James's Palace, 10, 23, 

26, 79 
St. Martin's Cross, 45, 47 
St. Mungo, 259 
St. Regulus, 131 
"Samson's Ribs,?' 153 
"Saucy Mary," 74 
Scone Palace, 115 
Scone, Stone of, 67, 115 
Scott, Michael, 213 



Scott Monument, The, 143, 

151 
Scott, Sir Walter, 94, 160, 

166, 200, 213, 217, 281 
" Sentimental Tommy," 117 
Shakespeare, William, 112 
Skye Dogs, 77 
Skye, Isle of, 63, 74 
Sligachan, 80 
Somerlid, First Lord of the 

Isles, 62 
Spanish Armada, 73, 164, 219 
" Speak a bit," 219 
Staffa, Island of, 35, 47 
Stevenson, Robert Louis, 188 
Stirling Castle, 240 
Struan, 82 

Tantallon Castle, 204 
Terry, Ellen, 32, 103 
Thames Embankment, 60 
"Thrums," 116 
Tobermory, 41, 50, 73 
Trafalgar Square, 17 
Trossachs, The, 248 
Tweed, The River, 222 

Van Dyke, Dr., 125 

Wallace, William, 258, 274 
Wellhouse Tower, 191 
Westminster Abbey, 17, 22, 

27. 69 
"Whistle o' Worth, The," 

265, 284 
White Horse Close, 177 
White Horse Hostelry, 178 
Whitehall, 17 
Whittier, J. G., 98 
William III, 55, 79 
" Window in Thrums, A," 

117 
Wishart, George, 133 

Yeomen of the Guard, 20, 23, 
26 



John and Betty's History Visit 

By MARGARET WILLIAMSON 

Twenty=four full-page illustrations from photographs 
Large 12ino $L25 





JOHN AND BETTfsl 
HISTORY VISIT 






II 


J 






MARGARET WILLIAMSON 





TVTOT every American boy and girl can learn the 
past and present of '^ our old home " in 
England in so delightful a way as do this bro- 
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**With all the fascinatieu of a story the account of these visits to places of in 
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* treated in a uniquely attractive way. 
*' Aunt Kate '* tells the story of Joan of Arc 
to Master Harold, aged ii, and to Misses 
Bessie and Marjorie, aged lo and 8, respec- 
tively, to their intense delight. They look 
up places on the map, and have a fine time 
while hearing the thrilling story, told in such 
simple language that they can readily under- 
stand it all. Parents and teachers will also 
be greatly interested in this book from an 
educational point of view. 

" The tale Is well told and the children will delight In it,»»«. Chicagc Post. 

** Told so simply and clearly thai young- readers tcannot fail to be entertained 
aad instructed.'* — Congregattonalist^ Boston^ 




For sale by aU booksellers or seni; postpaid on receipt of price 

by the publishers, 

i.OTHROP, LEB & SHEPAR0 CO.. BOSTON 



BRAVE HEART SERffiS 

By Adcle E. Thompson 
Illustrated T2mo Cloth $1.25 per volume 

Betty Seldon, Patriot 

A BOOK that is at the same time fascinating and noble. Historical 
events are accurately traced leading up to the surrender of Corn- 
wallis at Yorktown, with reunion and happiness for all who deserve it- 

Brave Heart Elizabeth 

IT is a story of the making of the Ohio frontier, much of it taken from 
life, and the heroine one of the famous Zane family after which Zanes- 
ville, O., takes its name. An accurate, pleasing, and yet at times intensely 
thrilling picture of the stirring period of border settlement. 

A Lassie of the Isles 

THIS is the romantic story of Flora Macdonald, the lassie of Skye, who 
aided in the escape of Charles Stuart, otherwise known as the 
"Young Pretender.'* 

Polly of the Pines 

THE events of the story occur in the years 1775-82. Polly was an 
orphan living with her mother's family, who were Scotch High- 
landers, and for the most part intensely loyal to the Crown, Polly finds 
the glamor of royal adherence hard to resist, but her heart turns towards 
the patriots and she does much to aid and encourage them. 



American Patty 

A Story of 1812 

PATTY is a brave, winsome girl of sixteen 
whose family have settled across the Cana- 
dian border and are living in peace and 
prosperity, and on the best of terms with the 
neighbors and friendly Indians. All this is 
suddenly and entirely changed by the breaking 
out of war, and unwillingness on the part of 
her father and brother to serve against their 
native land brings distress and deadly peril. 




ADEIEE. THOMPSON 



For sale by ail booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt 

of price by the publishers 

LOTHROP. LEE ^ SHEPARD CO., BOSTON 



A Little Maid of Boston Town 

By MARGARET SIDNEY 

12mo Cloth Illustrated by FRANK T. MERRILL $1.50 




T 



'HE opening chapters introduce us to 
old Boston in England. Margaret 
Sidney went there in 1907 and absorbed 
the atmosphere of Cotton Mather's " St. 
Botolph's Town," gathering for herselt 
facts and traditions. Then *'St. Botolph's 
Town " yields its scenic effects, and the 
setting of the story is changed to Boston 
Town of New England. 

The story is absorbing, graphic, and 
truly delightful, carrying one along till it 
seems as if actual participation in the 
events had been the lot of the reader. The same naturalness 
that is so conspicuous in her famous "Pepper Books" marks 
this latest story of Margaret Sidney's. She makes characters 
live and speak for themselves. 

It is an inspiring, patriotic story for the young, and contains striking 
and realistic pictures of the times with which it deals. — Sunday School 
Magazine^ Nashville^ 

The author presents a story, but she gives a veracious picture of con- 
ditions in the town of Boston during the Revolution. Parents who are 
seeking wholesome books can place this in the front rank with entire 
s2SQ\y .—Boston Globe. 

Surely Margaret Sidney deserves the gratitude of many a child, and 
grown-ups, too, for that matter, in telling in so charming, yet, withal, so 
simple a manner, of these early days in this country. — Utzca Observer, 

A really thrilling tale of the American Revolution. Interesting for 
both old and young. — Minneapolis Journal. 



For salo by alt booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of 
price by the publishers 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., Bosto; 



OUR OWN LAND SBRIBS 

By EVERETT T. TOMLINSON 
Illustrated Cloth 12mo $1.50 each 



FOUR BOYS IN THE YELLOWSTONE 

FOUR boy friends who chance to represent respectively the northern, 
southern, eastern, and western sections of our country, join in a trip up 
the great Lakes to Duluth, where they take a private car furnished by the 
father of one of them and go on to the world-famous Yellowstone Park. 

FOUR BOYS IN THE LAND OF COTTON 

THE four boys spend their next long vacation in a southern tour, which 
begins in Virginia, thence to the Mississippi river, and on through 
Arkansas to Indian Territory. They come to appreciate their own country 
by seeing it, and learn history by visiting historic places. Above all, they 
have a good time, and so will every one who reads this book. 

FOUR BOYS ON THE HISSISSIPPI 

THE four friends camp on the Arkansas river, and are so fascinated by 
good comradeship and interesting sights and experiences that they 
prolong their travelling by a most enviable trip on the mighty Mississippi. 

FOUR BOYS AND A FORTUNE 

ONE of the boys has learned of his inheritance 
of a part of a coal mine in England. His 
three friends accompany him on his voyage to the 
land that ever will be of interest to the people of 
the United States. 

FOUR B0Y5 IN THE 
YOSEHITE 

THIS is a story of the experiences of four boys 
who are spending their vacation in the 
Yosemite Valley, a place called by some travellers 
the most impressive and wonderful in the world. 
In the story are adventures, mountain-climbing, 
explorations, coaching, and exciting experiences 
among the tremendous crags and cliffs. 







FOUR BOYS IN THE 
YOSEMIT^ 




9 




^g'/ EVERETT T. TOTttlNSON 



Por sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of 
price by the publishers 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., Boston 



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